


no stranger to the dark

by cl410



Series: Legacy [7]
Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, Teen Wolf (TV), The Avengers (Marvel Movies), Thor (Movies)
Genre: Awesome Jane Foster, BAMF Darcy Lewis, BAMF Jane Foster, BAMF Stiles, BAMF Women, Bucky Barnes & Steve Rogers Friendship, Canon-Typical Violence, Darcy Lewis & Natasha Romanov Friendship, Darcy Lewis & Steve Rogers Friendship, Darcy Lewis is Tony Stark's Daughter, Darcy Lewis-centric, Demisexual Darcy Lewis, Found Family, Friends to Lovers, Friendship, Full Shift Werewolves, Jane Foster & Darcy Lewis Friendship, Magic Darcy Lewis, Magical Stiles Stilinski, Monster of the Week, Mutual Pining, Powers Darcy Lewis, Spark Darcy Lewis, Spark Stiles Stilinski, Tony Stark Has A Heart, Women Being Awesome, magic tattoos, the slowest of slow burns, this is a SLOW BURN fic, will tag as I go
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-27
Updated: 2018-10-10
Packaged: 2019-07-03 04:19:41
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 28
Words: 73,200
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15811209
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cl410/pseuds/cl410
Summary: Darcy Lewis, Sentinel.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I decided to start this as a new part- it worked way better for everything I have planned! I'm still restructuring a few things, but will hopefully have an update for you guys on Wednesday.

“Stop messing with your hair,” Darcy muttered. “You already refused the haircut. You have to live with your stupid decisions, now.” Bucky glowered at her; Darcy didn’t even have to turn around to know. She rolled her eyes. “Relax, dude. I got your back.” 

“He doesn’t know I’m coming.” 

“None of them do,” Darcy shrugged. “Well, Tony probably knows now, nothing gets by Jarvis.” 

“Jarvis?” Bucky asked skeptically. 

Darcy waved a hand. They’d get around to explaining the all-seeing, all-knowing AI later. For now, she had a couple things to take care of. The first task on her list? Reunite two best friends from their decades-long separation. 

“Ready?” She murmured as the elevator slowed. Bucky’s shoulders were tight, but he gave a sharp nod. The doors opened into the tower’s common room, revealing the room full of superheroes. 

Darcy exited first, smiling when Steve caught sight of her and stood to welcome her. Sam sent a friendly wave her way. Natasha and Clint lingered by the bar, eyes sharp on the shadow behind her. Tony stepped into the room, looking harried, at the same time Darcy addressed Steve. 

“Hey, Cap. Brought you a souvenir,” she said, jerking her thumb over her shoulder as she stepped out of the elevator. Sam choked on his drink when Bucky stepped out behind her, tense and wary. 

The room froze, everyone holding their breath in shock. 

Bucky shifted uncomfortably as Steve staggered towards them, barely breathing. He stared at Bucky as if he’d disappear if Steve looked away, like maybe this was all a dream. “Bucky?” Steve asked hoarsely. 

“Hey, punk,” Bucky rasped. 

Darcy glanced at Bucky’s stiff frame and stepped aside to let Steve approach. She wandered over to the bar, content to let the emotional reunion play out on its own. Natasha eyed her in amusement from behind the bar, mixing drinks with the countless bottles lined up on the counter. 

Clint gaped at Darcy from his seat on top of the bar. “Where the fuck  _ were  _ you?”

“Traveling.” Darcy shrugged. She accepted the drink Natasha handed her, not sure she wanted to know its contents. “Got some readings for Jane in Europe, met up with my sister for a week or two for... vacation.” 

“Get off of my bar, you fucking heathen,” Tony grouched as he approached. Clint very pointedly took his hearing aids out and turned away to watch Steve and Bucky. Tony eyed Darcy closely. “So. Lewis. What the hell were you doing in Romania, kid?” 

“Touring,” Darcy snarked. Tony narrowed his eyes at her, then frowned over suspiciously at Clint. 

“That’s funny, I never took you for the tourist type.” Tony leaned warily away from the drink Natasha set in front of him. Darcy risked a glance back- Steve and Bucky stood in a tight embrace, Sam monitoring from a few feet away. 

Tony sniffed at the drink and very carefully set it back down. He turned back to Darcy, his serious gaze belying the casual body language. “I came across a police report in some backwater Romanian town. A body was found in the woods, killed by an arrow through the throat.” He glanced very pointedly at Clint and Natasha. 

Darcy feigned confusion. “Thanks for sharing, Stark.” She sipped her drink and shot Natasha an impressed look. Darcy could barely taste the fuck ton of vodka she knew was in the drink. 

Tony leaned in a little and lowered his voice. “The body’s been identified as Gerard Argent.” He watched closely as she set the drink down with an unsteady hand. Darcy kept her eyes on the table, worried she’d give something away. 

“You were traveling through a foreign country with Allison Argent, right?” Tony asked, like she’d ever actually told him that. Darcy nodded, meeting Natasha’s knowing gaze. Tony didn’t notice, too busy trying to awkwardly tell Darcy things she already knew and he probably shouldn’t. 

“There’s a chance he was going after you two,” Tony said. Darcy looked over at him in surprise. His expression suggested that Gerard was tracking Darcy and Allison to finish what he started- a reasonable conclusion for him to draw, she supposed, considering what information Tony was working with. 

Tony sent Natasha another suspicious look. “But someone put an arrow through his throat first.” He glanced between Clint and Natasha. “You two didn't show up here until- what? Two days ago?” 

“Who is Gerard Argent?” Natasha asked evenly, unfazed with Tony’s pointed stare. Darcy had to hide a grin at the woman’s unimpressed face as she raised a brow at Tony. 

“He kidnapped me in high school,” Darcy said, waving a hand. “Old news. Tony, are you suggesting Natasha and Clint hunted down Gerard Argent and killed him? Also, why were you monitoring police reports in the middle of rural Romania?” 

Steve was now speaking in a low voice to Bucky, earnest and teary eyed. Bucky glanced briefly over at Darcy and returned his attention to his friend. 

Tony scowled. “I keep track of people that have a habit of terrorizing kids,” he said defensively. “Argent counts.” 

Darcy propped her chin in her hand and smiled over at Natasha. “Did you kill Gerard Argent for me?” She asked the assassin. Clint refocused on the conversation, squinting to read their lips. Darcy signed her question to him, grinning at his surprise- both at the question and the signing. 

“No,” Natasha said, fully aware of Darcy’s underlying hint. “But I would have, had I known.” 

Tony rolled his eyes. “Like you’re the paragon of truth.” Natasha smiled at him with too many teeth to be friendly. Tony hurriedly looked away, only to see Bucky and Steve still standing together across the room. 

“And you brought home the Winter Soldier,” Tony said quietly, mouth in a tight line. “To my tower.” 

Darcy looked at him, concerned with the billionaire’s dark gaze. “I stumbled across him during the trip,” she said, equally soft. “And I had to try to talk him into coming back with me, for Steve.” Darcy studied the tense line of Tony’s body, his carefully neutral expression. “Have you read his file?” 

“Oh, I’ve read it,” Tony said, an odd note in his voice. Darcy frowned. She’d been through most of it, too, though she’d had to stop after reading countless reports of the mind wiping experiments performed when Hydra’s assassin remembered he wasn’t just their plaything. 

“I’m sorry, Tony- Should I not have brought him here?” Darcy asked carefully. She probably shouldn’t have just assumed Tony would accept a former brainwashed assassin into his home. 

“We can hardly leave Steve’s best friend to stumble through this strange new world on his own,” Tony said with faux cheer, forcing the strange tension away. He glanced at them briefly and then slipped away before Steve or Bucky could address him.  

“Weird,” Darcy muttered. 

Natasha topped off her drink. “The Winter Soldier is responsible for Howard and Maria Stark’s deaths. It’s mentioned in his files of known kills.” She kept her voice low so it wouldn’t carry.

Darcy nearly dropped her drink. “Oh, fuck,” she breathed. “And I just strolled right in the front door with him.” She twisted to stare in the direction Tony had gone, worried. “Should I-” 

“Best to leave him alone for now,” Clint advised, clapping a hand on her shoulder. “Jarvis already notified Pepper. He’ll be okay, for now.” He made a face and readjusted his hearing aid. 

“Bucky- he didn’t know,” Darcy said. “He didn’t know what he was doing, you read the-” 

“I did,” Natasha said evenly. Darcy realized she had kept a careful eye on Bucky the entire time. “I know.” Darcy was silent for a moment, considering. 

Clint eyed her. “You gonna explain why you just asked if I killed someone for you?” 

Darcy tossed back the rest of her drink. “Nope.” She grinned at Natasha and stood. “I gotta go find Jane.” She left them to it, waving to Bucky when he looked up to watch her go.

~*~ 

She’d been read the riot act by a truly ridiculous number of people, and the day was barely half over. Darcy hoped Allison and Lydia would move in soon, so  _ they  _ could take some of the furious lectures instead. 

Darcy healed the bruises left by an entire pack’s worth of hugs as she dragged her bags to her room, Jane on her heels. The Fae hadn’t left her side since Darcy fished her out of the lab. Thor climbed the stairs somewhere behind them, having been momentarily derailed by the enthusiastic werewolves gathered in Derek and Laura’s apartment.  

Darcy threw herself onto her bed and sighed. “It’s so good to be home,” she groaned. “You wouldn’t believe some of the motels Bucky chose.” Jane wrinkled her nose as she climbed onto the bed to sprawl beside Darcy.

Thor appeared a moment later and collapsed between them, both women narrowly avoiding being crushed by his bulk. Darcy swatted at him half-heartedly in retaliation. 

“We are glad you’ve arrived home safely, sister,” Thor told her. “Jane and I were most concerned with the perils of your mission.” 

“Me, too,” Darcy grumbled. “But how was _ I _ supposed to know I’d just so happen to run into a former Hydra assassin?” 

“And yet somehow no one is surprised that you tried to make friends and then brought him home like a lost puppy,” Jane mused. 

Thor chuckled when Darcy sputtered in offense. “I didn’t try to adopt the assassin, if that’s what you’re implying,” she said. 

“Another assassin,” Jane reminded her. “Besides the one going through your fridge right now.” 

“Wait, what?” Darcy asked. She lifted her head to peer at the bedroom doorway. “How does she keep getting in?” 

Natasha appeared, a bag of pretzels in hand. “Your security could use some work.” 

“It works for everybody but you!” Darcy protested. Natasha shrugged, chewing on a pretzel stick. She padded over to the bed and slid gracefully behind Darcy to prop up against the headboard. Darcy dropped her head back down on Nat’s thigh and blinked up at her. 

Erica trotted in next, shifted into her long-legged wolf. She splayed out across Jane and Thor’s legs, reaching over to nip playfully at Darcy’s foot. 

Darcy flicked her friend on the nose and squirmed out of reach as the rest of the pack trickled into her room. Stiles, still furious she’d left him behind, narrowed his eyes at her as Derek herded him to the wide reading chair in the corner of the room. Boyd got distracted by the bookshelves and started flipping through a few of Darcy’s new books. Darcy resigned herself to most of the books disappearing for a few weeks. 

Jackson took one look at the room and dragged another large chair in from the den, pulling Danny onto his lap. Laura showed up last, just back from court where she’d likely verbally eviscerated the opposing counsel. Darcy had witnessed Laura in a courtroom, and it was terrifying. 

“So,” Stiles said, still pissed. Darcy found it hard to take him seriously when he was sitting across Derek’s lap in a too-large shirt with a vivid hickey on his throat, one hand threaded through his boyfriend’s hair. “Spill.” 

Darcy sighed heavily but acquiesced. She talked for an hour, detailing the trip and all the events leading up to Gerard’s death and her subsequent return to New York. The room was silent for a minute when she’d finished, everyone processing the insanity of the story. 

“So, you went to stop a maniac and ended up bringing home a brainwashed assassin?” Boyd asked skeptically. 

“Only you, Darcy,” Laura laughed.  

“I didn’t do it on purpose!” Darcy said, reaching over Thor to poke Jane in the side when she snorted in disbelief. 

“I’m more concerned about the Unseelie Court assassin,” Stiles said, drumming his fingers anxiously on Derek’s thigh. 

“Me, too,” Jane admitted. The pack looked to their resident Fae member in askance. Jane shook her head. “I haven’t ever met the Unseelie Queen. I just know she’s way worse than my mother.” 

“They did breed the Ak’ma,” Boyd pointed out in agreement. Darcy winced and tried not to shiver in fear. Natasha’s thigh twitched under her head; Darcy peered up at her and met Nat’s curious eyes. “I’ll explain later. They’re fucking horrible and I do want to sleep at some point tonight.” 

“I wonder what’s kept her attention off of us so far,” Stiles mused. 

Darcy agreed, especially considering her and Jane’s friendship. The friendship that worried the Seelie Queen so greatly- as a singularity, each woman was dangerous. Together, they posed an even greater threat. 

Add in the Hale pack, two Argents, a banshee, and another spark? It was a miracle the Fae courts hadn’t declared war by now. Darcy made a mental note to speak with Stiles about Naomi’s glaring lack of messages. The other spark still hadn’t returned Darcy’s call regarding the Unseelie Fae. 

Shoving aside her worry for now- Naomi probably wouldn’t appreciate Darcy and Stiles crashing to an unneeded rescue- Darcy wiggled around so she could stare at Laura. “Hey, go order food for us.” 

Laura looked offended. “Why do I have to?” 

“Because you’re our soon-to-be-Alpha,” Darcy said sweetly. “You have to provide for your pack.” The group nodded along somberly. Laura rolled her eyes, but a smile tugged at her mouth. She rolled to her feet, planted a wet kiss to Darcy’s cheek, and sauntered out of the room. 

“That means I get to pick!” She called over her shoulder. 

The ‘wolves scrambled to their feet, protesting. “No way, last time you picked we all got food poisoning!” Jackson yelled back. They all poured out of the room. 

Natasha started to slide out from underneath Darcy’s head, moving so subtly Darcy barely noticed until the assassin was halfway off the bed. Darcy made a noise of dissent and clutched her leg. “No way, you’re staying for pack dinner, young lady.” 

Natasha snorted, but stopped trying to do the freaky disappearing thing. Jane flopped over and propped her elbows up on Thor’s stomach, staring at the two women. Thor flinched a little at her pointy elbows but remained still and cooperative. 

“Midnight margaritas,” Jane said firmly. “Next Friday.” 

“You’re running a simulation all next week with that fancy new machine of yours,” Darcy reminded her. 

“Yeah, a machine so fancy I can push go and it actually does its job,” Jane said, rolling her eyes. “That means we won’t have to stand around with a fire extinguisher or a timer. Thus, free time for drinking.” 

“Drunk Science has been banned without adult supervision, Jane,” Darcy told her archly. 

“Why? Stark does it all the time.” 

“Hence the explosions,” Darcy huffed. She leaned back to peer at Natasha, smiling widely. “Whatcha say, Nat, wanna come drink with us?"

Natasha raised a brow. “Don’t you mean babysit?” 

Erica skidded into the room, half dressed in a sweater and fuzzy socks. “The only acceptable answer is yes,” the werewolf told Natasha. “I’m coming to the tower to drink with you guys.” 

“I’ll let Tony know you need access,” Darcy said mildly. “Allison and Lydia will probably be in New York by then.” She glanced at Jane, who had brightened at the news. “Which means Lydia will definitely want to be there.” 

Erica blanched at the thought of Lydia and Jane teaming up, but wisely said nothing. Darcy tugged insistently at the hem of Natasha’s shirt. The Black Widow gave her a rare genuine smile and nodded. “Fine. I’ll be there.” 

_ “Yes, _ ” Darcy hissed. “Midnight margarita party, it’s gonna be so much fun.” She and Jane high-fived over Thor, who watched the proceedings with amusement. “No boys allowed,” she told the God of Thunder, who just grinned back at her.  

Darcy sighed when something crashed heavily to the floor somewhere in the kitchen, followed by hysterical laughter and growling. She and Jane rolled their eyes. “It’s good to be home, I guess,” Darcy said dryly, and rolled off the bed to go assess the damage. 

 

 


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Heart to hearts, lots of booze, and Ladies Night with the most badass women around

Tony glanced up at Jarvis’s  _ “Sir” _ to see Julian Reneux, of all people, on the security stream from the tower lobby. The man lingered casually in the lobby, waiting patiently by the reception area as the receptionist tried to wrap up a phone call and help him. 

Tony frowned. “Did I have a meeting today?” 

“No, sir.” 

“Huh. Well, let’s see what he wants, then. Let him up, Jarvis.” Tony wiped the oil off of his hands and headed for the common room to greet the tycoon- whom he genuinely liked, a rare occurrence in New York businessmen. Especially the pretty ones.

Julian stood in the common room when Tony arrived, eyeing Natasha warily. Bucky, Steve, and Sam watched him curiously from the couches across the room. 

“Reneux,” Tony greeted as he approached. “Did Pepper need to see you?” 

“Ah, no,” Julian said, looking somewhat sheepish. “I’m not here for business.” 

“Then why  _ are _ you here?” Tony asked, baffled. 

“Visiting an old friend,” Julian said distractedly, looking around Tony towards the hallway behind him, where Jane and Darcy’s voices echoed from a heated argument. Moments later, they rounded the corner, pointing aggressively at scribbled equations on paper napkins.

Honestly, Tony thought. Why did he bother with all the expensive equipment for Foster when all she wanted was napkins and a writing utensil? 

Darcy looked up when Jane did and nearly dropped her stack of papers. A wide smile split her face and she let out a small, disbelieving laugh. Darcy shoved her papers into Jane’s hands and darted forward to leap into Julian. He lifted her into a hug, arms tight against her back. 

“God, I haven’t seen you in forever,” Darcy said, the words muffled into his shoulder. 

“Too long,” Julian agreed, setting her on her feet and giving her braid a fond, gentle tug. 

“Uh, and how do you two know each other?” Tony asked, looking between them with a strange expression on his face. Steve was now frowning thoughtfully across the room, studying the newcomer with interest. Bucky watched the scene with a neutral expression, Sam with a curious one. 

“Long story,” Darcy said with a dismissive wave. She tucked her arm into Julian’s and tugged him towards the elevator. “We’re going to lunch, c’mon, Janie! Bye, guys!” Jane followed uncertainly as Darcy chattered excitedly to the businessman. “I never got the chance to thank you for Europe, Julian-” The elevator doors closed, leaving the four men staring at each other in confusion. 

Natasha smiled to herself and headed for the stairs. Darcy’s friend or not, she’d keep a close eye on Julian Reneux. 

~*~ 

“Any change?” Jane asked from across the lab. 

“Nope, holding steady.” Darcy sat back on her heels and patted the machine affectionately. “Another hour and we’ll have everything we need.” 

She double checked that her wards were holding- an incredibly complicated set of runes that she and Stiles had created, with Lydia’s input. They would prevent humans from overhearing the supernatural-specific discussions, derived from the runes designed to confuse or turn humans away from a warded area. It was some of their best work- Stiles and Darcy were ridiculously proud of them.

Jane glanced over from where she stood at a hastily cleaned workstation, chopping limes. Darcy joined her, looking down at four bottles of tequila and a truly ambitious amount of salt. 

“What a great way to celebrate,” Darcy said happily. 

“Miss Lewis, your guests have arrived,” Jarvis politely interrupted. Darcy perked up, rushing to the lab door. 

“Be right back, Janie!” Darcy called over her shoulder, running down the hall. She made it to the common area right as the elevator doors opened, revealing Erica, Allison, Lydia, and Laura. Darcy accepted hugs from Laura and Erica, even though she’d seen them not six hours ago. 

She dragged Laura down the hall after her sister leered playfully at an amused Steve across the room. The others followed, Erica winking in Steve’s direction. Bucky looked confused by their sudden arrival, but gave Lydia and Allison a polite nod of acknowledgment. Sam watched them curiously. “Why does she know so many people?” Darcy heard him ask as they left the common area. She stifled a laugh. 

“Jane!” Laura shouted when they walked through the door. Jane jumped in surprise, then scowled over at the werewolf. Laura wrapped her in a hug, which Jane tolerated with all the grace of a wet cat. 

“Werewolves,” Darcy said in commiseration. “The scent marking is part of it, I’m afraid.” Jane huffed and gave up on trying to wiggle free. 

Erica handed over another bag, this one full of wolfsbane-infused liquor. Lydia had done the calculations herself, so the ‘wolves could safely get drunk without fatally poisoning themselves by accident. Darcy lined them up on the table, marking each bottle with a giant ‘X’ and a poor rendition of a wolf. 

Allison smiled at Jane and took over mixing the drinks so the Fae could join Lydia at the whiteboard. Darcy propped a hip on the table and watched as their conversation became more intense. 

“Is our Ladies Night going to turn into accidental world domination?” Laura asked, taking a swig from one of the wolfsbane bottles as she studied the two Fae scientists. 

“Drunken world domination,” Erica chimed in, wrestling the bottle away from the Hale heir. “That’s even more fun.”  

The doors to the lab slid open. Natasha stalked through, carrying two bottles of vodka. A tall, muscled woman followed her in. Darcy’s magic sparked in warning, alerting her that the newcomer was not human. 

Darcy studied the woman’s frankly stunning face, no-nonsense expression, and confident stride. She walked as though she were firmly rooted to the ground, graceful like Natasha but in a different, more solid way. 

The werewolves in the room looked up, studying the woman with varying degrees of interest. Natasha watched their reactions closely, a tiny, self-satisfied smile crossing her face for half a second. 

“Who’s this?” Darcy asked neutrally when Natasha came to a stop beside her. The woman scanned the room with an awareness that spoke volumes about her competence. 

Natasha dropped the vodka on the table beside the wolfsbane liquor and smiled. “This is Maria Hill.” 

“Fury’s right hand man?” Jane asked, scowling. 

Maria raised an eyebrow. “Yes, but how do you know that?” 

Jane glanced guiltily at Darcy, who smiled at Maria without an ounce of shame. “After SHIELD fell, I went through the files Natasha released. I took notes.” 

Maria sighed, releasing the tension from her shoulders. “I’m not an agent anymore. I work for Stark, now that he’s decided to privatize world peace.” 

“You’re head of Stark security? How did we not know that?” Darcy asked, accepting a margarita from Allison. Maria nodded and took the glass Natasha handed her with appropriate levels of concern. Darcy studied her more closely, letting her magic trickle out towards the former agent. Maria looked up sharply to meet Darcy’s gaze, then around the room again. 

Laura and Erica lingered by Lydia and Jane like a pair of sharp-eyed guard dogs. Maria slid her eyes back to Natasha, a wry smile curling at the edges of her mouth. “Interesting friends you have, Romanoff,” she said. 

Natasha watched her, expressionless. “You think so?” 

Allison turned the blender back on, interrupting the strange tension between them. Darcy felt as though she had lost track of what was happening. She looked at Natasha and remembered that the woman hadn’t known she was Void. But if Maria were also supernatural, and Nat worked with her, then... Darcy sighed when realization hit. 

“When did you know what Natasha was?” Darcy asked bluntly, tired of the confusing mind games Natasha was so skilled at. Maria blinked at Darcy in surprise and wariness. 

Darcy let her eyes flash bright gold. “The room’s warded,” she assured the former agent. “We can speak freely.” 

“I didn’t know for sure she was anything,” Maria said carefully. She looked intently at Natasha, whose eyes were now guarded. “Or I would have said something.” 

“Sure, okay, but what are  _ you?” _ Laura finally broke and joined them. 

Maria glanced over at them. Darcy waved a hand as she made the introductions. “Laura, the Hale Pack heir. Erica, Hale pack beta.” Erica gave a sultry smile. “Lydia and Jane, both Fae. Allison Argent, hunter.” She pointed to herself. “Darcy Lewis, spark.” 

“A spark, huh?” Maria nodded, as if something finally made sense to her. She looked back at Natasha, the smile more genuine now. “You really  _ do  _ have interesting friends.” 

“You’re something,” Darcy said when Natasha stayed quiet. Darcy squinted at Maria. “But I can’t tell what.” 

A grin tipped the corner of Maria’s mouth. “My mother's matriarchal bloodline is descended from the Amazons,” she explained. Darcy nearly dropped her drink in shock. 

“What?!” Laura squawked. “That’s a thing?” 

“The bloodline’s pretty diluted now,” Maria said, casual despite the amazed faces gawking at her. “But it gives me an edge- strength and speed, that sort of thing.” She looked at Natasha, who had remained silent. “It also gives me a somewhat inaccurate idea of when I’m in a room with another supernatural. I could never quite figure you out.” 

“She’s Void,” Darcy said quietly. “They absorb all magic.” 

Maria’s expression cleared. “That would explain it.” She flicked her gaze to the door, ensuring they were alone, and continued. “I handled all of SHIELD’s supernatural-related missions and agents. Coulson was kept in the dark. Fury needed him to remain unbiased by the supernatural. It’s why Coulson caught Thor’s initial appearance- something I had already dismissed as just supernatural interference.” 

“Was Fury supernatural?” Jane asked, walking over to take the next drink from Allison. 

“No,” Maria said, sharing an unreadable look with Natasha. Darcy narrowed her eyes. “But he was one of the humans that had the Sight.” 

“The Sight?” Allison asked, confused. 

“He could see through glamor,” Jane explained, climbing on top of a table and getting comfortable. She shoved a straw into her drink and drained a third of the glass in ten seconds. “And those with the Sight tend to notice the supernatural things other humans overlook.” 

“But other than that, he was totally human,” Maria said, shaking her head with an admiring look on her face. “Somehow he managed both worlds and god knows how many supes over the years.” 

“Were there supernatural SHIELD agents?” Erica asked. 

Maria nodded. “All under my command.” She sent Natasha a wicked grin. “They were all fucking  _ terrified _ of you. But no one really had a concrete idea of what you were. Besides that, Coulson drafted you and Barton for Strike Team Delta before I could lure you over to my side.”

“The file release,” Lydia said as she joined them. “There weren’t any written records of the supernatural. How’d you manage that, with supernatural agents?” 

“Anything like that was completely off the books,” Maria admitted. “Sending in supes to deal with other supes meant we had to come up with cover stories for the missions that would require documentation. Even then, none of that would have been explicit in mission reports.” 

“Sounds like a lot of subterfuge within an already shady government organization,” Jane muttered.   

Maria lifted a shoulder in a shrug. “That’s the way it is,” she said. “One society living secretly within another is going to have intricacies.” 

“It’s a delicate balance,” Darcy agreed. 

“Trying to maintain a statute of secrecy while also preventing rogue supernaturals from abusing humans?” Maria continued. “That’s even more complicated.” 

“Preach,” Laura said, lifting her glass in agreement. 

“So, where are all of your supernatural agents now?” Erica asked.

“Scattered,” Maria said. “A few stayed with me, as security here. Others ended up at various alphabet agencies.” 

“Do other agencies have supernatural agents?” Allison asked, leaning back against the table beside Lydia. 

“It’s possible. SHIELD had an entirely separate division for it, though, and we never really had any interference from other agencies on those cases.” Maria set down her empty glass and accepted a second from Natasha. 

“What’s the weirdest supernatural you’ve come across?” Erica asked excitedly. She dragged a chair over and sat, reaching for a bottle of the wolfsbane brew. “Ours is a chimera, probably.” Darcy grimaced. 

“What?” Maria laughed a little in shock. “Are you serious?” 

“I don’t want to talk about it,” Darcy said glumly. 

Erica nodded in agreement. “It was the worst.” 

Somehow, bashing their various supernatural adversaries turned into bashing their various exes, which then somehow turned into Laura and Erica wanting to test their skills against a literal Amazon. The lab temporarily became a fighting ring when Maria acquiesced.

Darcy couldn’t remember a time that she’d laughed so hard. She and Jane leaned against each other in an attempt to stay upright as they gasped for air, laughing too hard to breathe properly. Allison had joined in at some point and, to Maria’s surprise and Natasha’s interest, held her own with the ‘wolves.  

Natasha sat beside Darcy when Laura coaxed Jane over to teach her a few moves. Darcy, too tipsy to walk a straight line, decided against joining them- for everyone’s sake, really. She slumped over into Natasha as they watched Jane’s reluctance become ferocious determination. 

“You’ve been quiet,” Darcy said quietly to Natasha. She received only a hum in response. Darcy debated for a few moments, then decided to take the risk. “Is it because of SHIELD or Maria?” 

Natasha slid her eyes over to Darcy, who just nodded knowingly. “Both, huh?” 

“Tequila makes you nosy,” Natasha sniffed. 

“I’m always nosy when it comes to my friends,” Darcy said cheerfully. She wiggled around until she could loop her arm through Natasha’s and lean in. Darcy sent aggressively supportive thoughts towards the other woman, radiating encouragement. 

Natasha ignored her for a few minutes, watching the others. She didn’t speak until Darcy had almost given up on getting an answer. “I spent years trying to make up for my past,” Natasha said eventually. Her face was stoic, unmoved, but Darcy felt the slightest jump in the assassin’s pulse that belied the emotions underneath that mask. 

“And then it turned out to be Hydra all along,” Darcy sighed. “I’m sorry, Nat.” She studied Maria for a moment, the casual grace and explosive speed. “And it probably didn’t help that your own people were keeping things from you.” 

“I thought she knew,” Natasha confessed. “What I was.” 

Dear god, but this was an emotional minefield. Darcy willed away the buzzing in her head from the alcohol and very carefully said, “It mattered that it was Maria keeping you in the dark? More than the others?” 

“Fury I expected to keep secrets like this, to some degree,” Natasha said. “He had to play his cards close to the chest.” 

“Someone still could have told you.” Darcy scowled. “You lived basically your entire life thinking you were crazy.” 

“It was a matter of trust,” Natasha said quietly. 

Darcy’s heart squeezed at the deliberate lack of emotion in Nat’s voice. “Bullshit,” she said. Natasha glanced over at her, brow raised. Darcy was relieved to see a hint of amusement in her face now. “It was a bunch of super spies acting like they knew best because they were arrogant enough to think they were in control of the supernatural world. There’s not a single supernatural being in this world that would accept a secret government organization trying to tell them what to do. SHIELD just wanted to use you for other things- they needed you and Barton elsewhere, and they made the decision to be dicks and continue to keep you in the dark.” 

“I’m sensing some hostility here,” Natasha said dryly. Her mouth was curved up into a reluctant smile and the lingering heaviness in the assassin’s voice had dissipated. 

Darcy relaxed a little, now less concerned for her friend’s state of mind. “Just a little. They stole Jane’s work and then tried to spy on us,” she reminded Natasha. 

“Yes, Clint’s told me all about the SHIELD agents you two traumatized New Mexico.” 

“They’re lucky I didn’t do worse,” Jane said, plopping down on Natasha’s other side. 

“Such as?” Nat asked, curious. 

Darcy left them to it as Jane started to explain the concept of Fae gates and the very significant fact that she could open them at will. 

Tonight, Darcy thought, was a night for heart-to-hearts. That decided, she slipped out of the door with a wave to Nat and Erica, who’d tracked her progress across the room. She wandered down the dim halls towards Tony’s lab, wondering if maybe she should let the buzz wear off a little. 

She found herself blinking at the door to the lab and shrugged. “Well, since I’m already here.” Darcy leaned back to wave up at the ceiling, where Jarvis likely monitored her. “Hey, J, lemme in. I need to have a discussion with the Tin Man.” 

There was a pause as Jarvis likely passed along her message to Tony. The doors slid open a few seconds later, revealing Tony’s unimpressed face. “Tin Man? Really?” 

Darcy smiled widely at him and wiggled through the tiny gap of space between him and the door. “Hey, Stark, whatcha doin’?” 

“Are you drunk?” Tony asked warily. “Where’s your adult supervision?”

“I escaped,” Darcy said with a shrug. She gasped in delight when DUM-E rolled over to her, beeping excitedly. “Hey, buddy!” She patted the claw he extended to her and then turned around to squint over at Tony, who was watching her with skeptical amusement. 

“I came to apologize,” Darcy told him. 

Tony sighed and rolled his eyes, making his way towards the wall of liquor on one of the walls- because _ of course _ he kept thousands of dollars worth of booze in his lab. “What’d you break now, Lewis?” 

“Nothing!” Darcy said indignantly. She suddenly remembered the machine designed to collect improved magnetic readings that Tony built for Jane’s lab and winced a little. “Or nothing I can’t fix, anyway.”  

Tony snorted a laugh and returned to what he was presumably working on before she’d arrived. Darcy sat on the floor across from the pile of... whatever it was and collected her thoughts. “I want to apologize for bringing Bucky here without letting you know first.” Tony kept his eyes on his work. He made no sign that he was listening, except Darcy saw the way his jaw clenched. “I didn’t know about...” 

Tony shook his head. “It’s fine, Lewis.” 

“It’s not fine,” Darcy argued. “He... I read the reports, I know what they did to him. It was horrible- sickening.” She hesitated, just for a second. “But it doesn’t change the fact that he’s the one that killed your parents.” 

Now Tony looked up at her, eyes dark. Darcy didn’t let it stop her. “Or that I brought him here. Or that you let him stay,  _ or  _ that you’re helping him with his arm.” Darcy had seen a brief, tense couple of minutes of Bucky, seated in Tony’s disaster of a lab, with Tony hunched over his arm. He’d been having sensitivity issues, Steve had explained to her, and for some unknown reason Tony agreed to take a look at it. 

Darcy held Tony’s gaze across the heap of metal between them. “You’re a good man, Tony. You didn’t have to do any of this- giving the Avengers a home, taking in the prisoner of war responsible for your parents’ deaths, giving Jane funding so she can use her science to rip holes in the universe.” 

Tony huffed a laugh. “Did you have to get drunk to have a heart-to-heart with me?” 

She gave his own glass a pointed look. “Are you getting drunk to avoid it?” 

“Touché,” Tony said. He drained the glass and gave a heavy sigh. “Who am I to refuse Captain America’s best friend returned from the dead?” 

Darcy shook her head. Obviously he wouldn’t be cooperating for this talk. “Just... You’re a good man, okay? I feel like someone should remind you of that.” 

Tony stared at her for a long moment with an unreadable expression. Finally, he gave her a crooked smile and said, “You’re a good kid, Lewis.” 

“Not a kid,” she said stubbornly. “But thanks.” She smiled back at him and then, when the silence drew out too long, motioned to the scrap of metal between them. “What’s this? Your next suit?” 

Tony snorted. “Hardly.” Darcy leaned in when he started to explain, letting the heaviness of their discussion dissipate as they huddled over his latest project.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I couldn't not include Maria. 
> 
> The next chapter is one of my favorites!


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I wrote this in MAY. It's just been sitting around, waiting to be fit into this fic.

There was something to be said about her holiday plans being delayed for a hunt. Her flight delayed by a freak snowstorm that barreled through NYC only a day after the pack had flown home for Thanksgiving week, Darcy decided to accept the request for assistance with an alleged ghost through the website. Mostly because she was sitting at home alone, bored out of her mind.

She’d stayed later than the others to help Jane finish an experiment before Thor took the Fae to Asgard for the week. Now, Darcy looked up at the run-down house in front of her and wrinkled her nose in distaste. “Another abandoned building. _Great.”_

She adjusted her grip on her staff and walked cautiously up the front steps, wincing when her foot nearly went through the boards. Darcy checked nervously over her shoulder, suddenly wishing she hadn’t come alone.

The front door slowly creaked open. She stepped inside.

Darcy explored the first floor, choking a little on the thick dust. Nothing stood out- no footprints, no sigils, and no disturbances in the dust. Still, unease trickled down her spine. Darcy readjusted her grip on her staff, and let her spark shine light into the dark corners of the room.

Nothing.

Blowing out a heavy breath, Darcy cautiously inched her way up the rotting stairway. She touched the rail only once, yelping in alarm when it crumbled. She swayed, dangerously unbalanced, and managed to catch herself on the grimy wall.

“Ugh. Fucking figures.” Darcy reached the dark second floor and twisted her hand over, palm to the ceiling. A gentle nudge, and her spark flared into a small, glowing ball that bobbed gently above her palm. It lit the hallway just enough to fight off the pressing dark, leaving only long shadows stretched across the empty space.

She inched forward warily and began to check the rooms. The top floor was as abandoned as the one below. Standing in one of the empty bedrooms, Darcy tossed the little ball of light up, leaving it to float above her head.

She frowned, eyes catching on long scratches on the floor by the closed window that she hadn’t noticed before. Darcy crouched to study them, pressing a hand in the center of the lines. It almost looked like… The blood froze in her veins.

Darcy stood abruptly and spun around- just as the Ak’ma lunged out of the shadows with a triumphant gleam in its eyes to sink its teeth into her.

Darcy reacted purely on instinct, throwing her staff up in a horizontal block that caught the demon in its open mouth. She gasped at the force of the hit, her staff shoved tightly into the Ak’ma’s mouth. It growled and snapped its jaws shut, shattering her beloved staff into pieces.

A massive clawed hand caught her by the throat and slammed her into the wall, choking the air from her lungs as it lifted her feet clear off the ground.

Its other hand caught both her arms in its grip, effectively trapping her; claws pricked her forearms, sending small drops of blood onto the dirty floor. She could only shake as it slowly leaned forward, rumbling low in its throat and breathing putrid air in her face. A barbed tongue lolled from its mouth.

Darcy shuddered as the paralytic saliva dripped onto her shoulder, burning like acid through her clothes and skin. The demon opened its jaws and prepared to sink its foot-long fangs through her body. She’d be dead- or wishing she was- within minutes while the Ak’ma’s magic fed on her own.

Finally, Darcy’s training kicked in. Magic wouldn’t work against it directly, she knew that all too well. But the room… Darcy didn’t think, just threw her spark through the lethal rune tucked away in her armband, never used before now, and into the rotting floorboards below.

The room exploded.

She wondered absently, as they fell, if this is what a bomb felt like. The floorboards beneath them dissolved, rotted wood splintering apart. The Ak’ma roared, scrambling to keep its hold on her, but the force of the blast threw it back. Darcy cried out when its outstretched talons dragged along her skin, leaving thin weeping cuts across her collarbone.

She fell for what seemed like forever, bouncing off of walls and a staircase, and then slammed down onto the ground floor, landing in a heap of shattered wood and glass. Her head cracked painfully against the stone foundation. She looked around, dazed, realizing she’d taken them all the way to the basement. Darcy coughed out a mouthful of blood, cringing at the familiar, metallic taste. She’d bitten the inside of her mouth at some point.

Darcy dragged herself into a vaguely upright position and squinted into the dim basement, pulse pounding in her ears. Her arm was going numb where the saliva burned into her shoulder.

A looming shadow in the corner stopped her heart. It rose, wavered, then fell again. Darcy could see the rotting wood impaled through its chest. The demon looked her way and snarled, clawing at the wound. “Hurts, doesn’t it?” Darcy said with vicious satisfaction.

Her hand brushed a metal pole at her side; hope flared. _Iron_. Darcy gritted her teeth through the pain. She could barely concentrate. The Ak’ma tried to pull the board from its chest again and failed. While it was distracted, she took a deep breath and looked for the strongest pieces of wood in the room, gripping the metal pipe tightly. She didn’t use a rune this time- she knew her anchor would hold.

And it did. The tree tattoo on her back burned brightly, and the room exploded again. Darcy lost consciousness.

When her eyes blinked open again, the first thing she saw was the Ak’ma, pinned to the stone foundation by wood and iron pipes.

“Gotcha, bitch,” Darcy said, grinning with bloody teeth. She tried to move and froze when the room spun dangerously. Her legs protested, pinned underneath a pile of decaying wood. “Fuck.”

Pain clouded her thoughts. She thought of Jane, off-world and oblivious. Julian was somewhere in Europe. The pack went home early for the holidays, leaving her with only a handful of allies in the city that she had little to no trust in.

Except… Darcy muttered a prayer under her breath as she fished her phone out of her bra. “Oh, thank Thor,” she said when the phone appeared undamaged. “I knew boobs were good for something.”

Darcy scrolled slowly through her contacts and chose the number with no contact name, only a spider emoji, that had appeared a few months ago. She coughed again in the dusty room, spitting out a mouthful of blood with a grimace.

The phone rang once, twice, and then- “Darcy.” She wanted to cry in relief.

“Oh, thank fuck. Natasha.”

“Where are you? What happened?” Darcy could hear an alarmed voice raised in the background. Natasha hissed something and it fell quiet.

“I- Honestly, I’m not entirely sure. I think I was set up?” Darcy said. She coughed again, groaning at the strain on her cracked ribs. Blood seeped uncomfortably down her front from the cuts across her collarbone. “I’ll live,” she decided, hoping it was the truth as she tried to flex her fingers and failed. “But I can’t get out of here by myself.”

“Send me the address. I’m on my way.”

“Just you, ok? Just you,” Darcy panted, trying not to gag too audibly as she pulled a long piece of glass from her thigh. A choked-off whimper escaped despite her best efforts. Her runes flared briefly and she watched as the wound healed over.

“Just me,” Natasha promised.

“I sent you my location,” Darcy rasped. “Hurry, please.”

Darcy lost track of time after that, pulling shards of glass from her body and healing the cuts. It was a slow, excruciating process. Her phone clattered from numb fingers after a while and she coughed through a mouthful of blood again, collapsing back against the wall in exhaustion. She was absently aware of her body trembling, her teeth chattering. Shock, probably.

Darcy found she couldn’t tear her eyes from the Ak’ma. Despite her current predicament, Darcy knew she had been very, very lucky tonight. “That’s twice,” she told the corpse. Twice she’d escaped from certain death.

Distantly, she heard her name called. Once, twice. Three times- urgent now. “Down here,” she finally managed to croak, watching with grim satisfaction as black blood dripped from the demon.

Natasha’s face appeared above her, hovering at the edge of the floor that had survived. Her eyes widened briefly at the scene, but she showed no other outward reaction. “I’m coming down. Darcy. Darcy!” Darcy slowly turned her head towards the master assassin. “Clint was with me when you called, Darcy. He followed me here because he has a death wish, but he wants to help. Is that okay?” Darcy waved a bloody hand in acceptance and let her head fall back. Part of her brain realized it was cold down here. She couldn’t really feel anything.  

Low, vehement swearing caught her attention moments later. Darcy’s eyes drifted to the narrow window that had been shattered with the blast. Clint stood just inside the basement window with his bow, taking in the scene with a very pale face but steady hands.

Clint’s eyes met hers and she watched shock turn to horror. “Jesus, kid.” He crept his way over the wreckage to Darcy, attention split between her and the Ak’ma.

“It’s dead,” she told him. “Nat.” Natasha appeared beside her, crouching down to glance at the still-weeping cuts on her collarbone. “Make sure?” Natasha nodded, stepping confidently through the blast zone towards the dead demon.

Clint knelt beside her. “Darcy. Hey, kid, can you look at me?” Darcy couldn’t tear her eyes away from the Ak’ma until Natasha cut its head off with efficient precision. She shivered. “Darcy,” Clint said gently. She finally turned to him. Warm, calloused hands cupped her face as he peered into her unfocused eyes. “Tash, I think she’s going into shock. Concussion?” He asked Darcy gently.

She shrugged weakly. “Probably. I took the top two floors out from under us.” Clint stared at her in disbelief.

“Let’s get her out of here,” Natasha said lowly. “Someone may have noticed the fight. Or whoever set you up might want to make sure the job was finished.”

Clint and Natasha worked quickly to free her legs. “There’s… a lot of blood here, kid,” Clint said carefully, staring at the blood pooled around her legs.

“I know,” Darcy rasped. Gods, her throat hurt. “I pulled the glass out already. The cuts are healed,” she told Natasha, who nodded.

Clint slung his bow across his back and slid an arm under her legs and one behind her back. “Deep breath.” Darcy bore down hard as he lifted her and tried not to throw up on him. Her vision blacked out. She opened her eyes again to find herself bundled inside the backseat of a car, heat blasting and a thick blanket wrapped tightly around her. Her head rested on Clint’s thigh while Natasha drove them to an unfamiliar part of town.

“Where…” Darcy trailed off, wincing at the blood smeared onto the leather seats. She hoped this wasn’t Natasha’s car.

“My apartment,” Clint said softly, resting a hand on her head when she tried to sit up. “Hang on, Darce. Almost there.” She lost time again, fading in and out. She caught only flashes- car doors slamming closed, a dim stairway, then being set gently on a couch.

“Darcy.” Natasha’s face hovered close to hers. “You need to heal your concussion. Are you able to do that?”

“Yes.” Darcy took a couple minutes to refocus. She reached for the elaborate healing rune below her elbow and breathed a sigh of relief when her magic hummed in response. It took a long time, much longer than usual. She had to relight the rune twice more until she felt well enough to sit up. Steady hands helped her lean back against the couch.

She cracked her eyes open in time to see relief flash through Natasha’s eyes. “You scared us, solnishka.”

“Sorry,” Darcy sighed. Pressure built behind her eyes. She hadn’t been that scared in a long, long time. “It almost had me.” Natasha let Darcy grip her hands while she did a mental check of the rest of her body.

“What happened?” Natasha asked quietly, shaking her head at Clint when he opened his mouth behind Darcy.

“I was checking on a lead,” Darcy said. “They said people were being lured into the building and killed. I thought it was… I didn’t know it was waiting for me.”

“The demon,” Natasha said.

Darcy nodded. Her mouth twisted. “You never know they’re there. Not a single fucking clue, until it’s dragging you into the dark.” Clint sucked in a breath behind her. “It caught me by the throat, had me pinned to the wall before I realized what was happening. I _froze_ ,” she whispered. “My… nothing I can do would hurt it directly. And I froze,” she told Natasha. Tears burned her eyes. Natasha said nothing, just kept her steady with a calm, reassuring gaze and let her talk. “It almost... “ She shuddered. “Anyway.”

Darcy cleared her throat after a long minute. “I blew up the floor. Both of ‘em, apparently.”

“And then you nailed the ugly son of a bitch to the wall,” Clint said, leaping over the back of the couch to sprawl next to her. Darcy huffed a tired laugh.

“Iron pipes and old, old wood.” She tipped her head against Clint’s shoulder and sighed heavily. “Thanks for coming to get me. Everybody else was busy.”

“Well, I, for one, am glad we came to get you. Otherwise, there’d be nobody here to bleed all over my new couch.”

Natasha rolled her eyes and stood. “I’m going to burn the body and building down before anyone finds it.”

“I can’t believe we’re already at this stage of our friendship,” Darcy marveled. Clint laughed.

“And I’ll pick up food, since you have nothing edible in this apartment,” Natasha said to Clint with a highly judgmental tone.

“Pizza,” Clint demanded. Natasha ignored him, slipping out the kitchen window and disappearing into the dark. Clint slung a careful arm around Darcy’s shoulders after she’d gone. “In the meantime, you and I are going to have a nice, long talk about walking into death traps without any backup.” Darcy groaned.

She accepted the long winded lecture with grim resignation, fueled by the sense of shame. She _did_ know better than to go alone, without even telling someone where she would be.

Clint gave up his bed for her, after Natasha helped her rinse the blood off of her body in Clint’s shower. Darcy hobbled back into the bedroom in one of Clint’s shirts and sweatpants, wincing at the ache in her throat and chest. She collapsed into the bed and smiled gratefully at Clint as the two of them slipped out the door.

They didn’t stay gone for long. Darcy woke up thrashing some odd hours later, heaving for air. She clutched at her throat, then whimpered in pain when her fingers brushed against the bruises.

Natasha and Clint appeared in the doorway, armed and alert. Darcy could only stare blankly at them for a moment. She pressed her trembling hands to the mattress and looked away. “Sorry,” she rasped, cheeks hot. “Nightmare.”

A brief pause, and then- “Me, too, kid,” Clint said, setting his bow on the wonky dresser. “And I only saw that thing for a couple minutes.” He approached slowly, letting her see every movement clearly and deliberately as he lowered himself into the ragged chair by the bed.

Natasha’s weapons had vanished by the time the assassin sat beside Darcy on the bed, propped up against the headboard. Darcy curled instinctively towards Natasha, missing her tactile werewolves.

Natasha’s hand hesitantly settled against Darcy’s back, brushing carefully down her spine. Darcy squirmed closer, grateful for the contact.

The pair sat with her for the rest of the night. They said nothing each time she jerked awake, gasping and reaching for her throat, just kept a quiet, steady guard until Darcy stopped shaking and dozed off again.

Natasha dragged her out of bed the next morning and into a private training room at the tower, where Clint waited with a shit-eating grin. “Let’s see what you know,” Clint said.

Darcy scowled at him. “I know how to fight,” she told him, caught somewhere between annoyance and excitement. Training with the world’s most lethal master assassins? _Hell_ yes.

“Tai-bo don’t count, shortie.”

Annoyance won. Clint found himself blinking at the ceiling a few seconds later. “Huh.” Natasha was grinning from the sidelines. Clint accepted Darcy’s hand up, looking at her with new respect. “Alright. I can work with this.”  

They worked for an hour before Clint brought up the demon in the room. “So,” Clint said casually as Natasha walked Darcy through a new maneuver. He nudged her arm into the correct position and glanced briefly at Natasha. “You gonna tell me what exactly that thing was?” He tapped his throat, as if she’d forgotten about the violent bruising on her own or the demon that had given them to her.

Darcy glanced at Natasha. “You haven’t told him?”

“Not my secret to tell,” the woman said smoothly.

“Yeah, don’t think I’m not pissed about that.” Clint scowled at them. “You don’t ask me to come along to carry a half-dead Darcy out of a blast zone-”

“I didn’t ask you to come,” Natasha reminded him.

Clint raised his voice over her, “-with something that crawled out of the pits of hell shish-kebabed to a wall, and then refuse to tell me anything!”

“His feelings get hurt when he’s left out,” Natasha told her. Darcy’s mouth tipped up in a faint smile.

Clint glared at his partner. “Also,” he said, turning back to Darcy. “Your, uh… You had a moving tattoo?” Darcy sighed. In the midst of the trauma, she must have dropped her camouflage. Fucking perfect.

She glanced up and around, then decided, “Not here.” Clint’s brow raised but he nodded in agreement, likely aware of Jarvis’s 24/7 surveillance. Darcy accepted the water bottle from Natasha with a grateful smile. “We’ll go back to my place for The Talk.”

 _Now_ Clint looked appropriately wary.

“C’mon, bird brain,” Darcy said, nudging him in the back towards the door. “I’m about to rock your world.” Natasha followed, a smile playing at the corners of her mouth.

“I’m uncomfortable with that, just so you know,” Clint said, but let himself be herded out of the tower.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The next chapter (to be posted on Sunday) will be from Clint's POV, and another update will follow it pretty quickly since it's a little shorter than usual :)


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Reminder: this is the day after the attack by the Ak’ma. It's from Clint's POV!
> 
> We'll consider this an "extra" since it's shorter than usual, which means the next chapter will still go up on Monday!

**Clint**

 

There was something about Darcy Lewis that made you look twice. 

At first, Clint thought that maybe it was the pin-up girl body, straight out of one of Steve’s sketches from the ‘40s. Or maybe it was the snarky mouth and knowing stares, the bright humor in her eyes like she knew something you didn’t. 

SHIELD listening and recording devices went on the fritz when she was around. Half of the agents assigned to New Mexico during the alien drama probably had nightmares from dealing with a pissed-off, mildly inconvenienced Darcy. Phil... Agent Coulson had been  _ very  _ interested in her family ties.  

Look, he wasn’t saying mob princess but... Lewis was most definitely a mob princess. 

~*~ 

Mob princess had seemed like a totally reasonable conclusion, in Clint's defense. 

Until, that is, he’d followed Natasha after a  _ very _ concerning phone call and they’d found Darcy in the middle of a blast zone. After seeing the demon pinned to the wall, and Darcy’s small, bloody form in that dark basement, Clint realized it was way, way more serious than the mob. Except... 

“Werewolves? Really?” Clint asked, looking between Darcy and Natasha and waiting for the punchline. “You’re going with werewolves?” 

“Among other creatures of the night,” Darcy said with a shrug. “Technically, I’m  _ really  _ not supposed to be telling you any of this, but...” 

“Demon, detonated bomb, creepy basement,” Clint finished. “I saw it all, sister.” 

“For the last time, it wasn’t a bomb,” Darcy said.  _ “I _ did that.” 

“You’re the bomb?” 

Darcy’s lips twitched. “I am, yes.” 

Natasha sighed loudly. “Magic, Clint. She has magic.” Clint turned to study his partner, who’d been suspiciously absent over the last few weeks. There had been noticeably less nagging in his life, fewer disapproving stares and judgmental silences about his general everything. 

He’d just assumed it was Maria-related. Nat never knew what to do with romantic feelings that she didn’t want to acknowledge, and since Clint could read her like a book she’d stayed away. Or at least, that’s what he’d thought. 

“And you?” Clint asked, studying her closely. 

Natasha met his gaze evenly. “I found out a few months ago.” 

“About Darcy, or about the rest of it?” He asked, familiar with his partner’s tactics. 

“Both,” she admitted. “But I’ve always been able to see certain things, like magic and wards.” Natasha glanced around Darcy’s empty apartment, as if reassuring herself that no one else could hear her confession. “I just thought...” 

“That you were crazy?” Clint asked in understanding. “If it helps, I haven’t ruled that out entirely for either of you.” Natasha rolled her eyes, but it was fond. Clint was very familiar with that eye roll by now. 

“Oh, for-” Darcy huffed and threw out a hand. Clint almost toppled off of his stool in surprise as the room lit up, small golden dots shining around them. He reached out to touch one, awed, and shivered when his fingers met with the magic. It felt like warmth seeping into his bones, a small thrill zipping up his spine, and safety all at once. 

“Are these constellations?” Natasha asked, walking through the scattered drops of magic. Darcy nodded. “Nerd,” Natasha teased. 

“So,” Clint said, voice a little high-pitched. “Magic.” 

“The demon didn’t freak you out, but this does?” Darcy asked judgmentally.

“Oh, the demon freaked me out plenty,” Clint assured her. So much that he’d blocked it semi-permanently from his memory so that he would be able to sleep  _ ever again. _ Also, at the time he’d been a little more concerned with the fact that Darcy had looked like mince meat buried underneath a pile of debris. 

She looked okay now, Clint thought as he watched her pace around the kitchen island again. A little jumpy, maybe, and noticeably pale. She repeatedly touched her fingertips to the thin scratches across her shoulder and chest, her eyes going distant each time. 

Clint was also familiar with that- the way your mind would cloud after a certain memory. A subconscious protective instinct, the SHIELD-assigned (and required after every mission) therapist had explained to him years ago. Dissociation, if you wanted to get technical. He didn’t, but he also made a mental note to keep an eye on Lewis. 

_ Nobody  _ could just recover from an attack by that thing, not even if you’d seen one before. The glimpse he’d caught of the demon told him all he needed to know- it was a top-of-the-food-chain predator, plain and simple. The long limbs and lean, streamlined body gave it both speed and reach, large talons able to rip and tear a human apart. Massive fangs and a strong jaw that gave Clint flashbacks to that Sabre-Tooth Tiger exhibit from the disastrous mission in a Belize museum- the mission he’d vowed to never tell _anyone_ about, least of all Tasha. 

He had a sinking feeling she knew anyway, but he was comfortable living in denial.  

“You never finished explaining the tattoos,” he prompted, settling back against the countertops. He very manfully kept his eyes on her face when Darcy stripped off Clint’s tattered 'Best Bi' shirt in answer. “Um. I don’t need that back right now.” 

Darcy rolled her eyes. “I live with werewolves, modesty is no longer a thing that exists for me. Besides, I’m wearing a bra.” 

“I should hang out with you guys more often,” Clint mused. Natasha pinched him on the back of the arm. He yelped and squirmed away as Darcy held out her arm to show him the intricate armband of strange symbols.  

“These are runes,” Darcy said, pointing to the sigils. “They’re like a guide for magic, when you want something specific done. Like healing, for instance.” She turned around and Clint found himself gaping at her back. 

Darcy pulled her hair over her shoulder and grinned at him. “That’s my anchor tattoo, for when I do bigger things with my spark.” 

“Like blowing up a building?” Clint asked faintly. 

“And nailing a demon to the wall.” Darcy nodded. 

Clint leaned in to squint at the tattoo. “The branches are moving.” 

“Well spotted, Hawkeye,” Natasha muttered. 

Darcy coughed to cover her laugh when Clint glared at his partner. “The tattoo was inked by someone else with magic,” she explained. “And my own magic latched onto it, once it was complete. The otter works in a similar way.” Darcy pointed to where the otter tattoo skimmed along her hip. “It’s a manifestation of my magic, or something like that.” 

Clint stared for a little while longer, then sat back. “Badass,” he decided. “You got any more?” 

Darcy hesitated. Natasha turned away from the open fridge to study her. Darcy looked away, wringing her hands. Finally, she said, “Yeah. One more.” To Clint’s alarm, she started tugging the sweatpants around her hips down. 

“What, is it on your ass?” Clint asked, rearing back. 

“No, dumbass,” Darcy huffed. She turned to the side, and they saw a jagged lightning tattoo stretching down her thigh. It wasn’t inked like the usual lightning strike, as just a handful of zigzags. No- it looked  _ real, _ like a storm was brewing underneath Darcy’s skin and this flash of the wild had escaped, branding her body. 

“Where did you get that from?” Natasha asked, too calmly. Clint eyed her, confused, but Darcy seemed to know what his partner meant because her hand dropped to her leg. Clint’s eyes widened- he’d been so distracted by the tattoo he hadn’t noticed the rope of scar tissue stretching around her thigh. 

“Another demon. Gerard Argent-” Clint perked up, recognizing the name from a few weeks ago- “he, uh, had me kidnapped when I was in high school.” 

“And?” Tasha asked sharply. 

“And he handed me over to someone a lot worse than he was, who then chained me up in a room with an Ak’ma,” Darcy said. Her eyes went distant again, Clint noticed, but then she blinked it away and tugged the pants back up. 

“What the fuck,” Clint stated evenly.  “Who would- You were a  _ baby.” _

“I was seventeen,” Darcy said, frowning in confusion. 

“That’s my point!” He said, appalled. 

Clint looked between the two women, who stared back at him. Natasha didn’t seem as horrified as he was- but then again, whatever the Red Room had done to her was likely far, far worse than a kidnapping. No matter how terrifying that demon had been. Even himself- he still couldn’t say Phil’s name out loud without feeling like he’d just been gut-punched by the Hulk. 

Clint sighed. “We all need so much therapy.”  

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just so you’re aware, the lighting tattoo is not at all like Harry Potter’s… It’s bigger, more natural looking. There’s a pic [here](https://i.pinimg.com/564x/57/80/9c/57809c172ca6cdb95c89107a3176d3a2.jpg) that shows a better idea of what I’m trying (and probably failing) to describe.


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry this is late, had some personal stuff come up. Next update should be this weekend and then I will hopefully get back to the normal schedule!
> 
> Reminder: this is set three days after the attack

Darcy slammed her hands on the desk in frustration three days after the attack. She was tired and cranky, both from her aching bruises and the recent news that all flights were _still_ grounded due to extreme weather. She wanted to go _home,_ dammit.

Instead, she was at the lab, staring at the empty spot where an entire morning’s worth of work had been. “J, where are the data reports? I left them right here for Jane when she gets back,” Darcy said, stabbing a finger at the noticeably empty spot.

There was a short pause. It felt distinctively guilty. “Sir was interested in the outcome of the experiment.”

“Jarvis!” Darcy protested in dismay. “You let him in here?!”

“Apologies, Miss Lewis. He did have the override code. And Miss Potts was not present to use her own to stop him.”

“Ugh. Next time, can’t you distract him with something shiny?” She said, stomping off to the elevator.

“I will do my very best,” Jarvis promised.

Darcy stormed into Tony’s lab a few minutes later. “Hey, Tin Man! Quit stealing my reports, you dick.”

“Lewis, always so happy to have you visit,” Tony said through a mouthful of tools, bent over Bucky Barnes’ metal arm. He didn’t look up, just waved an impatient hand at her. “I’ll get them in a sec.”

 _“Tony_ _,”_ Darcy growled.

“One second, woman, honestly. This is crucial work here. One slip-up and our very favorite assassin could end up with an exploding metal arm.” Steve stepped closer to Tony and Barnes and crossed his arms. “ _Kidding_ ,” Tony said. “Lewis, I’m not exactly at a stopping point here.”

“Fine,” Darcy said. She patted Dum-E when he bumped gently into her and looked up at the holo screen at one of Tony’s other workstations. Darcy wrinkled her nose and tapped the screen. Jarvis helpfully directed her to a pen to correct what looked to be another one of Tony’s drunken math benders.

Dum-E beeped hopefully at her hip. She accepted whatever he handed her, not looking away from the screen. Darcy tossed the item- a torque wrench, from the feel of it- across the lab. Dum-E raced after it, beeping happily.

Bucky watched Tony work, nodding along to his quiet muttered explanations. Theoretically, he’d be able to do all repairs after they worked the kinks out. Bucky glanced up at Steve, rolling his eyes when he saw his friend frowning over to where Darcy stood with her back pointedly turned towards them. The punk never could talk to women. Bucky hissed when Tony bumped a tangle of wires, refocusing.

A few quiet minutes later, Sam strolled into the lab, hands in his pockets. Steve finally tore his eyes away from Darcy to smile over at him.

“Why are there so many _people_ in here,” Tony complained as he squinted at Bucky’s arm. “Is there a sign outside that says, ‘Welcoming All Resident Pain in the Asses’?”

“Don’t worry, you’re still the top dog in that area,” Darcy told him absently, scrolling through the smaller holo tablet Jarvis had found her and marking the fuck out of his equations. Sam laughed. “This math is a goddamn tragedy, Stark. Had you slept at all the week you wrote it?” Bucky bit down on a smile as Sam laughed again and turned towards her.

“Excuse me, that is prime drunken genius there-” Tony started indignantly.

 _“Jesus,_ Lewis, what happened to you?” Sam interrupted, hastily vaulting over a dismantled engine to approach her.

Bucky’s eyes snapped up. Tony looked away from the arm for the first time since she’d entered the room. “Holy-” Tony set his tools down a little too hard, dark eyes narrowing on the black marks on her skin.

Sam tilted Darcy’s head back, examining the vicious bruises around her throat and ignoring her when she batted at him. “Hey!” Darcy protested when he glanced down and slid the long sleeves of her grey sweater up to her elbows.

Steve approached carefully, blue eyes worried. “What happened, Darcy?” he asked gently. Darcy had to look away from his earnest concern, fervently relieved they couldn’t see the scratches underneath her sweater. She saw Tony and Bucky staring at her, too, with twin dark expressions.

“Someone broke into my apartment again,” Darcy told them, grasping for the story she and Clint had created when it became clear she had to return to the lab. She gave a casual shrug and threw the wrench for Dum-E again when he shoved between a horrified Steve and Sam.

“Yeah, right, like someone got through _my_ security,” Tony scoffed.

 _“Again?”_ Sam asked incredulously.

“I don’t live here, Stark. I have an apartment in Iron Heights.”

“Iron Heights? As in the murder capital of New York?”

“It is _not_ the-”

“What’s wrong with my tower?” Tony demanded.

Darcy rolled her eyes. “Besides the fact that it’s a giant monument to your ego?”

“Obviously.” Tony waved an impatient hand, still waiting for an answer. Bucky was silent beside him, unable to drag his eyes away from the bruises on her neck.

“The contract offered Jane a place. No mention of her tag along assistant,” Darcy told him, accepting a different wrench from Dum-E. “Anyway, my foster family owns the apartment building, so I got a good deal on rent.” She tossed the wrench over Sam’s head.

“Not good enough, if you’re fighting off robbers every night!” Tony said wildly.

“It’s happened twice,” Darcy groaned. And once was Natasha, so it didn’t really count. “Settle down.”

“Kid, those bruises are not something to brush off,” Tony responded, mouth set in a firm line. He stood with an unusually serious expression, absently wiping his hands on his jeans as he wandered to another holo screen. “Jarvis, how many empty apartments do we have on the upper floors?”

“Tony!” She scrambled to her feet. “I’m not moving into the tower!” Darcy protested. Jarvis monitoring her every move, recording every time she snuck out at night and came home bloody and bruised the next morning? Yeah, that’d go over real well.

Tony ignored her, tapping at the screen. “Tony,” Darcy said again. Sam finished his inspection and reluctantly let her go. Steve radiated silent support beside her.

“There’s space for renovations on the same floor as Jane and Thor, perfect. Jarvis, run with it.”

 _“No,”_ Darcy said again, this time from across his workstation. “I have my own place. This-” she motioned to her throat “is not going to happen again, okay?”

Tony looked at her through the transparent blue screen. “And how exactly do you know that?” He challenged, crossing his arms.

“Because he’s dead,” Darcy said, unable to stop the honest answer.

Stunned silence. And then- “Good.” They turned to look at Bucky, still seated on the wobbly stool Dum-E and Butterfingers had put together last week. Darcy blinked at him. He held her gaze for a long moment, then tipped his chin at her. “I’m glad.”

More silence, until- “Me too,” she said quietly. Bucky gave her an approving nod; the corner of his mouth quirked up. Darcy’s eyes dropped to his mouth on their own accord, then back to his bright blue eyes.

“You’re still getting an apartment,” Tony said, breaking the strange tension between them.

Darcy dragged her eyes away from the blue fire in Bucky’s and whirled to scowl at Tony. “Tony, I said-”

“Listen, it’ll just be yours, okay? When you work too late, you’ll have a place to crash here instead of walking home at two in the morning.” She narrowed her eyes at him. He narrowed his right back. “And no getting out of it, sister. Jarvis will be sending me an alert every time you try that.”

“And what, you’ll escort me home?”

“Iron Man will,” he said with a smarmy grin.

“Why?!” Darcy shouted, throwing her arms up and trying not to cringe when the movement pulled on the scratches. She ignored the other three, who had wisely faded warily into the background of the escalating argument.

“Because I’m not interested in finding out you were dragged into an alley and brutally murdered on a night you could’ve been here, completely safe. Do you have _any_ idea what the statistics are for that neighborhood?” Tony demanded, slamming his tablet down and glaring at her.

Darcy swallowed. Yes. She knew exactly what the statistics were- it was a supernatural hotbed, after all. Close to normal for her, really, after living in Beacon Hills. But to the rest of the world… Murder capital of New York was somewhat accurate, actually.

“It’s not as bad as it seems,” she said truthfully. “The neighborhood has changed over the last few months.” Also true, since she and Stiles had been relentlessly beating it into shape.

“This is not negotiable,” Tony told her firmly.

Darcy met his gaze across the holo screen and decided arguing was a waste of time. “Fine,” she said with a scowl.

“Fine,” Tony said, scowling back.

Behind Darcy, Bucky rubbed a hand across his face in apparent aggravation. They all watched as Darcy finally noticed the stolen stack of papers on a nearby table, snatched them up, and stomped out of the lab.

“So. That went well,” Sam commented. Tony made a noise of disgust and stomped away, too.

~*~

Bucky found her later in Jane’s lab. She was hunched over paperwork and a stack of data reports that she wanted to consolidate before Jane’s return. Out of the corner of her eye, Darcy watched him lean against the door frame and cross his arms with a considering expression.

“Human?” He asked quietly. Darcy shook her head. Bucky watched her for a moment. “Were you alone?”

“Why does that matter?” Darcy muttered.

“That’s a yes, then.” Bucky unfolded his arms and approached. Darcy braced herself- for what, she didn’t know. Bucky surprised her by snatching her phone off the desk and quickly stepping out of reach.

“Hey! Give it back!” Darcy growled. Bucky ignored her and continued typing. Darcy stood, oddly on edge, and barely managed to catch the phone when he tossed it over to her.

“Next time, you call me first.”

Darcy scowled at him. “I can handle myself just fine, thank you.” She turned to tuck her phone safely out of his reach.

“Don’t give me that bullshit, Lewis.” She looked up, surprised to hear the hints of a Brooklyn accent bleeding through. “One mistake and you could’a been dead. Next time, you call.” He left with that final command.

Darcy stared after him, feeling confused and strangely off balance.

Her phone rang. Darcy nearly jumped out of her skin.

She fumbled for it, half expecting it to be Bucky for some reason unknown to her. The caller id wasn’t him, though. Darcy inhaled in surprise and answered the phone with a trembling, “Please tell me you’re okay.”

“I’m okay,” Naomi said.

Darcy dropped back into her chair and went boneless with relief. “Oh, thank fuck. Why haven’t you answered your phone?! We’ve been so worried!”

“I’ve been out of town,” Naomi said evasively. Darcy straightened- Naomi had left her house? “Looking into some things. My phone met a watery death a couple weeks ago.”

“And you just now replaced it?” Darcy asked, disgruntled.

“I was in the middle of the ocean,” Naomi told her. “Not many spare phones on a boat, kid. Not to mention the lack of service.”

“So... you didn’t get my message, then?” Darcy asked.

“No, I didn’t.” Naomi’s voice sharpened. “What happened?”

“A Fae from the Unseelie Court attacked me,” Darcy said. She shivered a little at the memory of the Fae’s oily magic and mouthful of teeth.

Naomi sucked in a breath. “What? Tell me what happened, Darcy, everything,” she said urgently. Darcy obeyed, nerves creeping up her spine at the concern in Naomi’s voice. Naomi was silent while Darcy described the assassination attempt.

“This is bad,” Naomi said once Darcy had finished. “I didn’t think they’d be active already.”

“Active? What?” Darcy frowned. “Naomi, what are you talking about?”

“The Unseelie Court,” Naomi sighed. “I’ve… heard that they’re turning their attention back towards earth, back towards us.”

“Where have they _been_ focused?” Darcy asked.

“That’s what I’m worried about,” Naomi admitted. “I’m looking into it, though. Don’t worry.” Darcy heard a brief commotion on Naomi’s side of the call. It cut off when Naomi closed a door and turned her attention back to Darcy. “Enough about that,” she said. “Why don’t you catch me up?”

Darcy tapped her fingers anxiously on the desk, worried about the moving Fae courts, but told her friend and mentor about the insanity that was currently her life.  

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Concerned superheroes, Bucky “all of you please stop making dumb decisions” Barnes, and a little tiny bit of plot


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy Friday!

"You have to eat, Jane,” Darcy reminded her friend. She sighed in exasperation when Jane didn’t even look away from her work.  

“I’m too close, Darce, not now,” Jane muttered, bent over her desk. Darcy eyed the Fae’s tangled hair, three-day old clothes, and slightly manic expression.

“Alright,” Darcy sighed. “That’s it.” Jane ignored her. Darcy fired off a text to Thor and started shutting down the lab, moving quickly. Jane only looked up when Darcy smacked a hand down over the top of her notebook. “You’re grounded.”

Jane blinked up at her. “What?”

Darcy poked her finger into Jane’s chest. “You smell terrible, you haven’t eaten a legitimate meal or slept in three days, and now you’re writing the same equation over and over again.” Darcy lifted her hand from the notebook to prove her point. “You’ve gone full mad scientist, babe.”

Jane leaned over, trying to read between Darcy’s splayed fingers. “It is not the-”

“It’s the same equation,” Darcy interrupted. Thor waved at the door of the lab, drawing Jane’s attention.

“You called Thor?” Jane asked indignantly. “I’m an adult, Darcy, I can take care of myself.”

“I’m well aware of that,” Darcy said patiently. “But occasionally you forget to do so.” That and Darcy suspected Jane’s Fae blood played a role in her frankly inhuman focus.

“I don’t like being handled,” Jane said, crossing her arms stubbornly.

“We are simply taking care of you,” Thor said as he approached, well accustomed to Jane’s temper. “Because we both love you dearly.” Darcy bit back a grin when Jane’s annoyance wavered in the face of Thor’s (very deliberate) earnestness.

Thor winked over his shoulder at Darcy as he guided Jane towards the door, speaking lowly to her. Jane’s cheeks flushed at something he said and then _she_ was the one dragging him out the door. “Have good sex!” Darcy called after them, amused. Jane lifted her middle finger in response but didn’t bother turning around.

“Well,” Darcy said to the empty lab, satisfied. “That went way better than expected.” She checked her phone and sighed in relief, noting that she now had the entire afternoon free.

Which gave her plenty of time to check the Fae gates in the city. Between Stiles, Darcy, Lydia, and Jane, they had a pretty solid hold on the four gates in New York. But Darcy was more than a little paranoid after the London fiasco- she needed the reassurance of checking and rechecking her wards.

Darcy hesitated in front of the elevators, remembering the barely-faded bruises on her neck and arms. She touched her fingers to the thin, still-red lines over her shoulder, scratches that didn’t seem to want to heal.

Darcy turned on her heel and stalked down the hall, muttering angrily under her breath. Natasha, she knew, had disappeared two nights ago on a top-secret mission with Barton. She didn’t have the heart to interrupt Steve and Sam’s “not-a-date" that was so totally a date, which left...

“Barnes,” Darcy said, leaning casually against the doorway to Tony’s lab. Bucky looked over at her, brows lifted in question. “I’m going for a walk, if you aren’t busy.” Bucky’s eyes sharpened on her and he nodded, reaching for his shirt. Darcy forced herself to look away from miles of tanned skin and broad shoulders before he noticed her gawking.

Tony glanced up from the schematics of Bucky’s arm, too, eyeing her closely. “No battle wounds, Lewis?”

“Not today,” Darcy said, rolling her eyes. “But it’s early yet.”

Tony snorted a laugh and returned his attention to the blown-up schematics of Bucky’s arm. “Nerve endings,” he muttered, tapping at an area near the shoulder. “Probably fused naturally with the arm at some point, hence the discomfort. Raw nerve endings rubbing against metal can’t feel great.”

Darcy, intrigued, stepped closer and studied the hologram. “But is that what’s giving him so much dexterity- the way his body fused with the arm?” She asked, motioning towards Bucky’s fingers.

“Human bodies,” Tony said, shaking his head. “There’s no fucking telling what they’ll do, or how they’ll adapt.” He scowled at the hologram. “This is not my area of expertise.”

“I don’t think this is anyone’s area of expertise,” Darcy pointed out helpfully.

“Jarvis, is Helen Cho downstairs?” Tony asked. He glanced at Bucky. “With your permission, robo-cop. I’d like to consult with her on this before moving forward.”

Bucky frowned. “I don’t like doctors.”

“Cho’s not the regular sort of doctor,” Tony said. Darcy was surprised and somewhat pleased to detect a reassuring tone from the genius. “She’s brilliant. Very much not a Hydra scientist wanting to experiment on you.” Annnnd there went the warm feelings. Bucky’s frown deepened.  

“Nice going, Stark,” Darcy sighed. She crossed her arms and stared at Bucky. “So? You coming with me?” He nodded. “In the meantime, can Tony consult with Dr. Cho about your arm?”

Bucky deliberated for a moment, eyes on the hologram, and finally shrugged. “Great,” Darcy said, clapping her hands together. “Tony, have at it.” She headed for the door, sighing internally when Bucky, still frowning, reluctantly stood.

“Come on, Eeyore,” Darcy said when he lingered uncertainly. “I have plans.”

Tony laughed until he cried as Bucky stomped after her out the door.

"Eeyore?” Bucky asked as they rode the elevator to the first floor. “That’s just rude, doll.”

Darcy’s lips quirked up at the pet name, but she shrugged as casually as she could manage with six feet of gorgeous man standing beside her. “I call ‘em like I see ‘em.”

Bucky bumped deliberately into her as they stepped off the elevator, making her stumble. Darcy shot him a narrow-eyed look, wondering if she’d be fast enough to kick him in the shins. If she was fast enough to kick the werewolves, surely she’d be fast enough to kick the Winter Soldier. Darcy just barely resisted the urge.

They walked the streets in comfortable silence. Bucky helpfully slowed when she hesitated by each gate, testing the strength of her wards. Some of the tension left her shoulders as they made their way past the final gate.

Bucky noticed. “What are you doing?” He asked, a hand on Darcy's elbow to guide her over to his other side, away from the man leering at her from the alleyway between buildings. Human, Darcy noted after a careful observation. Just a regular New York creep.

She bumped into Bucky’s hip with her own to turn him left, down the street where Erica and Boyd’s shop had opened last week. Darcy’s ‘wolves had made her as tactile as they were, she mused.

But Bucky’s casual touch was new, different. He’d been generally subdued at the tower. Besides Steve, therapy with Sam and Tony’s work on his arm, Bucky kept himself separate from the other tower residents. Some of it could be chalked up to other behavioral quirks stemming from nearly a lifetime of brainwashing and torture. Other reasons probably included the fearful reactions from former SHIELD agents that had read his file or even been at the fight in DC.

Darcy read his file. She knew what Hydra had done to him, the horrific experiments and punishments designed to keep him in line. She _also_ knew he received a bastardized version of the serum, giving him enhanced senses and strength much like Steve’s- only, Bucky was human to start with. No Fae blood to fuse the two together like Steve.  

Whoever had designed or altered Bucky’s version of the serum made it work on someone entirely human, which had been beyond Dr. Erskine’s ability. Darcy wondered who- or what- was capable of blending futuristic science and magic skillfully enough to turn a human. She wasn’t entirely sure that she wanted to know the answer.

Darcy stepped off of a curb she didn’t know was there and nearly stumbled, aware of Bucky’s aborted movement at her side, like he’d stopped himself from catching her just after she righted herself. She was still aware of every inch of her skin that he’d touched earlier. He seemed to feel more familiar with her, quicker to touch or talk to than even Steve sometimes.

Maybe it was the time they’d spent hunting Gerard and Hydra together. Shitty motels and blowing up Nazis did tend to create bonds pretty quickly, she supposed. And Darcy couldn’t say she minded the brief, casual touches. Not at all.

Bucky halted in front of the store, peering up at the sign. “Bite Me?” He asked skeptically.

“Sure, if you’re into that sort of thing,” Darcy said immediately.

Bucky shot her a droll look, reluctantly amused. Darcy grinned back at him and pressed a hand to the door, absently checking those wards, too. “It was Erica’s idea,” she explained.

“Who?”

“C’mon,” Darcy said instead, motioning for him to follow her inside. She held the door open for the woman exiting the shop with a pile of bags, the wards flaring briefly as the woman passed through the door.

Bucky waited for the woman- part Fae, Darcy guessed- to leave before stepping inside, crowding against her back. Darcy peered over the line of people at the bakery and could just barely see a wild mane of blonde hair at the counter.

Boyd, over by the walls of books on the opposite side of the store, caught her eye. Darcy wormed her way through the crowded shop, Bucky at her heels. Boyd caught her in a one-armed hug, his way of subtly scent marking her. It drove her ‘wolves crazy to smell strangers all over Darcy, but she could hardly do anything about that. They lived in New York City, for fuck’s sake.

“You guys are so busy!” Darcy said, looking around. “Especially the bakery, damn.”

“’Wolves like the stuff Erica’s come up with,” Boyd said with a shrug. He shelved the book in his hand, a handwritten account of encounters with water-based Fae. “She found a market nearby that has fresh, organic ingredients. We can taste the difference.” Boyd glanced at Bucky, who was observing the customers.

“Oh, right.” Darcy poked Bucky in the side to get his attention. He caught her finger and looked away from the two werewolf kids bouncing excitedly in front of the glass case of cookies. “This is Boyd, my best friend,” Darcy said. “Boyd, this is Bucky.”

Boyd’s polite greeting was drowned out by Erica’s excited squawk when she finally noticed Darcy. Erica vaulted over the counter, ignoring the line of people nearly out the door. Bucky looked faintly alarmed as she tackled Darcy into a hug.

“It’s been twelve hours, Erica,” Darcy sighed, but hugged her back just as tightly.

“It’s been much longer than that!” Erica protested. “We’ve been so wrapped up in this, and you with work, that we’ve only seen each other in passing. It’s dumb and I hate it.”

Darcy laughed. She extracted herself from the hug and gestured to Bucky. “This is my other best friend, Erica.”

“Nice to meet you,” Bucky said.

Erica eyed him appreciatively. “So, this is the-”

“Bucky,” Darcy said loudly, interrupting before Erica could finish her sentence. “This is Bucky.” She glared at Erica in warning. Boyd coughed to cover his laugh, ducking his head before anyone could catch it.

So, maybe Darcy had described Bucky’s ridiculously blue eyes and stupidly pretty face and broad shoulders a few too many times when drunk. Something Erica, the traitor, probably wouldn’t ever let her forget.

“He went on a walk with me today,” Darcy said, eyeing the line of customers growing impatient. “To check wards.”

“Good.” Erica scowled at Darcy. The pack had all been horrified to hear of Darcy’s latest close call- with an Ak’ma, no less. Darcy couldn’t protest all the concerned hovering, not after how scared she herself had been.

As for the person who’d initially sent the request for Darcy to check out the abandoned building… Jane and Stiles had disappeared for a few hours after Danny looked into it and discovered the request came from a hunter with ties to the remaining McAllister hunters. They’d returned tight lipped but with a look of vicious satisfaction.

Darcy, as the more active spark, tended to catch more of the crazies than the others. Stiles seemed content to keep himself in the dark- an ace up their sleeve, he’d told her when Darcy had asked him about it. Insurance, in case someone decided to try their luck against the Hale pack.

One spark, if taken off guard or injured badly enough, and maybe someone could slip through the cracks. But two sparks? Not a chance in hell.

“Don’t let her out of your sight,” Erica instructed. “She’s a walking trouble magnet.”

 _“Excuse_ me-”

“No self-preservation instincts,” Erica continued over her. Bucky nodded solemnly agreement, humor bright in his eyes as he slid his gaze over to Darcy’s indignant face.  

“Never asks for help,” Boyd chimed in.

“Gets hurt all the time,” Erica listed off her fingers.

Darcy decided this had gotten out of hand and moved to intervene. She pressed her hand over Erica’s face to stop her and turned back towards the door. “Never mind, this was a terrible idea. We have to leave right now,” she told Bucky.

Erica smacked Darcy’s hand away and grinned at her. “Stick close, pretty boy.” She winked at Bucky, who’s mouth tugged up at the corners in amusement. “She needs a bodyguard to keep her safe.”

“Mostly from herself,” Boyd muttered. Darcy kicked him in the ankle.

“We’re leaving,” she informed her alleged friends. “Because you guys are the worst.”

“We love you!” Erica called after her, struggling not to laugh. She waved as Darcy shot them a dark look and tugged insistently at Bucky’s sleeve to drag him out the door.

Bucky allowed the manhandling. “’M learnin’ a lot about you, doll,” he drawled.

“Ugh.” Darcy stomped off, Bucky trailing her with his hands in his pockets and a shit-eating grin on his face.

“Mostly just that you remind me a lot of Steve,” Bucky mused aloud. “Picking fights, gettin’ hurt, stubborn as hell.”

“I do not pick fights!” Darcy sputtered. “Trouble finds _me,_ Barnes!”

“Sure it does,” he said agreeably. “Right after you’ve kicked the hornet’s nest.”

“Who knew you were such a troll?” Darcy complained, but she had to turn her head to hide the smile tugging at her mouth. She’d take a little teasing if it put a smile like that on Bucky’s face- a brightness she hadn’t seen there before he’d come back with her to the tower, to Steve.

“C’mon,” she sighed when he only grinned down at her. “I’ve got wards to check, rounds to make.” Darcy side eyed him. “Hornet’s nests to kick.”   

Bucky laughed, a sound that seemed to surprise him even more than it did her, and followed Darcy down the street.

 


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter basically wrote itself, along with the next 3. I'm on a roll, so you guys get a very early update! 
> 
> Lots of the pack in this chapter, especially a long-suffering Derek Hale (sisters, man. They're the worst).

Darcy skidded into the common area inside Stark Tower, having just barely made her escape. “Help!” She yelped when Steve and Sam stepped into the room, sweaty from their workout. Bucky was only a few seconds behind them, already eyeing her with suspicion. 

Darcy slipped behind the group as Tony’s voice carried down the hall. “Glitter?!” Tony roared from his lab. “You gave Dum-E a glitter bomb?” There was a loud, hollow-sounding  _ thump  _ as the second one was detonated. Directly into Tony’s face, judging by all the sputtering and coughing.

“Respect, Lewis,” Sam laughed. Darcy accepted his fist bump with a smug smile. 

“He was a dick to Jane yesterday about her latest project proposal,” she explained as they listened to the muffled swearing and crashing coming from Tony’s lab. Probably as he tried to catch Dum-E before the little bot could explode the third and final glitter bomb. 

“Is that why you were sneaking around this morning?” Steve asked. Darcy made a face at him. Bucky and Steve had caught her halfway up the vent with a bag dangling from her teeth earlier this morning. They’d all frozen still, staring at each other; Darcy in guilty surprise, the men in confusion and amusement. Eventually she’d just continued on her way into the vents, courtesy of Clint’s unconventional training. 

“No,” Darcy lied.   

“Is that why you asked me to keep Tony out of his lab earlier?” Bucky countered, walking past her to the fridge. He grabbed a water bottle and downed it, glancing briefly towards the somewhat concerning noises drifting down the hall. 

“Yeah, duh. What else would it be for?” 

“Like I ever understand a single thing you do,” Bucky grumbled. 

“Wait, that’s why you broke our fridge?” Steve asked. “And then told Tony you were having calibration issues with your arm?” 

“Worked, didn’t it?” Bucky asked, unconcerned with Steve’s scowling. He narrowed his eyes at Sam, who was looking between Bucky and Darcy with an unreadable expression.  

Darcy clasped her hands to her chest and beamed at Bucky. “You’re the best.” The crashing and angry muttering came closer. “I, uh... have to be somewhere else. Right now.” She darted out the door before Tony could appear and retaliate.  

Jane sent her a short video of a glitter-covered Tony shouting in outrage in the common area as Darcy slipped through the front door of the lobby, followed by a close-up of Jane’s huge grin. Darcy laughed to herself as she returned the list of texts she’d received that morning from the pack. 

Erica’s caught her eye and she frowned, re-reading the message. Darcy had only a brief flare of warning from her spark before Derek fell into step beside her, looking disgruntled with the crowded sidewalk. “You get Erica’s message?” He asked, glancing down at her. 

“I just saw it,” Darcy said, knowing better than to protest when Derek tossed an arm over her shoulder and glowered at the passersby that brushed against her. “You coming with me?” 

“Uh huh. Laura’s in court or she’d come to help, too.” Derek guided her to the subway, wrinkling his nose at the smell. Darcy sighed internally- she hated the tight spaces down here, but it was faster than walking. 

They got off after two stops, Derek pulling her quickly ahead of the crowd. “Got the address?” He asked when they reached the street, looking around to get his bearings. 

“Yeah, it’s...” Darcy squinted at the screen. “Uh, west from here, I think.” 

“You think?”

“Google maps is still loading,” she said defensively. “I’m doing my best.” Darcy looked around and brightened in recognition, pointing across the street. “Hey, isn’t that the store you don’t go to anymore because you accidentally said ‘I love you’ to the cashier?” 

Derek growled at her, ears burning a bright red. “No,” he said loudly as he shoved her the other direction. “It’s not.” 

“Geez,” Darcy said, stumbling a little. “Why are you so cranky, it’s not your time of the month for another week and a half.” 

“I hate you,” Derek muttered. 

“So, it  _ was _ the store,” Darcy confirmed. She dodged his half-hearted swipe. “Which means I was right about going west.” Derek grumbled at her for another few minutes, then pulled her to a stop. 

“This is it.” 

“Oh, right.” Darcy slid her phone into her pocket and climbed the stairs of the brownstone. She knocked lightly on the door, Derek positioned at her back. The door opened, revealing a harried-looking woman. Darcy could hear a child wailing inside and winced in sympathy for the woman at the sheer volume of the screaming.

“Thank you for coming, Sentinel Lewis,” she breathed in relief, stepping aside. “We weren’t sure what to do.” 

“Darcy, please.” She tipped her head back towards Derek. “Derek Hale, my brother,” Darcy said, entering with Derek only a breath behind her. 

“A Hale?” A male voice said from further inside. Darcy paused, wary, but Derek shook his head at her. No threat. 

“Only one of them,” Darcy called back. “I didn’t want to submit you to the whole circus.” A huff of laughter in response, and Derek’s elbow in her side. 

The woman led them to the kitchen, where a man sat at the table with towels pressed to his arm and side. Darcy’s eyes widened at the amount of blood seeping through the cloth. “That’s Ana, my wife. I’m Mason,” he said, friendly despite his wounds. “I’d offer a hand but...” 

“Yeah, please don’t,” Darcy agreed. “In fact, try not to move much at all.” She stripped her jacket off, glancing over as Ana- a werewolf- seemed torn between her injured human husband and the child in the next room. “I’ve got this covered if you want to-” She gestured towards the door. 

“I’ll go with you,” Derek offered. He smiled at Ana, body language relaxed and non-threatening to put her at ease. “We’ve had a lot of baby werewolf experience.” 

“Thank you,” Ana said, running a shaky hand over her hair. “He’s my first child, a born wolf, and we’ve just...” 

“Werewolves,” Darcy sighed in commiseration, gingerly pulling away the towel around Mason’s arm to assess the depth of the wounds. “They make everything so much more complicated.” 

Mason laughed and looked at his wife, sending her a reassuring smile. “Go, Ana. He’s scared.” 

“My brother has him,” Ana said, pacing anxiously. 

“And it’s you that he wants,” Mason countered. “Go, I’ll be fine.” Ana wavered, watching Darcy work for a moment, and then finally led Derek out of the kitchen. 

“Challenges of parenting a baby ‘wolf?” Darcy asked, wincing at the scratches along Mason’s arms. 

“The terrible two’s,” Mason sighed. “This is karma, I’m sure, for my own childhood. My mother is laughing at me somewhere in Michigan right now, and she doesn’t know why.” 

Darcy laughed, fishing around in the drawer he pointed out to find a marker. “These are deep enough that I want to use a rune. Just to be thorough,” she explained, crouching beside his chair to start sketching the all-too-familiar rune. 

“What’s his name?” Darcy asked, picking back up when the child’s crying cut off. She could hear Ana murmuring quietly, with Derek’s gentle tone occasionally chiming in. 

“Matheus,” Mason said, watching her sketch. He adjusted the towel back around his midsection and clenched his jaw in pain. Darcy made a note of it and added a rune to help with the pain, too. “We named him after Ana’s father. Her family still lives in Brazil, except for one of her brothers. He came to help with Matheus was born.”

“Deep breath,” Darcy instructed. “This is gonna feel a little weird.” 

“Can’t be any worse that it is,” he said quietly, but obeyed. Darcy let her spark wind around him and pour into the rune, illuminating the room in a comforting gold sheen. The wounds closed over as she watched, Mason breathing easier as the magic did its work. “Wow,” he breathed. 

Ana stepped back into the room, cradling a toddler with eyes as wet as his mother’s. He blinked curiously at Darcy, so she let a little of her magic loose to dance around him. Matheus stared in fascination, mouth open in surprise as the little lights tumbled through the room. 

“Good as new,” Darcy told Ana, motioning towards Mason. He grinned and stood, immediately crossing the room towards his family. Matheus blinked tearfully at his father, bottom lip trembling again. 

“I’m okay,” Mason assured him. 

“Go change,” Derek instructed quietly. “And maybe shower. He smells the blood and remembers being afraid and upset.” Mason pressed a kiss to his son’s hair and left to do so. “Werewolves are sensitive to scents and sounds, babies especially,” Derek continued. “One small noise or weird smell can be incredibly overwhelming.” 

“That’s why you guys were all homeschooled.” Darcy nodded. “You were all born ‘wolves, too.” 

“Bitten ‘wolves have a hard time adjusting,” Derek said, leaning against the counter and letting Matheus gnaw at his fingers. “But their brains have already learned how to process sights and sounds. Baby werewolves have to do all that, but with magnified senses that they don’t know how to process yet.” 

Darcy started cleaning the blood up with supplies she found under the sink, waving off Ana’s protests. “I lived with the Hales for most of my life, I’m used to cleaning up after things like this. Besides, it probably helps baby ‘wolf over there to have you close.” 

Derek nodded. “It does.” He glanced at Darcy. “That’s why we always had an adult near you at all times when Cora was young. One of her episodes could’ve ended way worse than this.” Darcy blinked in surprise, realizing he was right. “Cora has a better sense of smell than nearly anyone else in the pack,” Derek explained. “She’d get migraines that would make everything ten times worse. It took us a while before we figured out what was going on and we could help her.” 

“Someone knocked a metal trash can over outside,” Ana said. “It scared him, and he scratched Mason on accident. And then he got even more upset.” 

“Probably smelled the blood, knew his dad was hurt, and that there was a scary noise somewhere outside.” Darcy shook her head in sympathy. “Poor baby.” 

Mason stepped back into the room with wet hair and in clean clothes. “Better?” He asked the two ‘wolves in the room. They nodded. He grinned at Matheus, who reached for him. “We didn’t think those injuries would be easy to explain at a hospital,” Mason said as he let Matheus cling to him. “But there was enough blood that I knew we pretty much needed immediate help.” 

“Thank you,” Ana said. She hugged Darcy, grateful her husband was no longer bleeding out in the kitchen. 

“Any time,” Darcy assured her. “If you’d like, I can work on some runes to help keep him calm? Maybe something to block out the excess  _ everything  _ until he’s old enough to handle it without feeling like his brain will explode.” She looked at Derek in askance, who nodded in agreement. 

“That would be-” Ana stopped and took a deep breath. “I can’t pay much, but that would be wonderful.” 

“Don’t worry about payment,” Darcy said, shaking her head. “I’ll come up with a couple runes to help and will get back to you. If it works, we can pass it along to other werewolf parents. It’d help the kids  _ and  _ the statute of secrecy,” she pointed out. “So this is for the greater good, really.” Derek snorted.  

“If you’re sure,” Mason said, looking between Darcy and Ana. “Honestly, I’m not totally clear on how this whole magic or Sentinel thing works. I only just figured out werewolves a couple years ago.” 

“You took the news very well,” Ana told him, patting him on the arm. “For a clueless human.” 

“Minimal crying, that’s the best you can hope for,” Darcy said in agreement. She waved to Matheus, grinning when he copied the movement. “If you need us again, call the emergency line. Or-” She patted her pockets, wondering where she’d put the pen. 

“I left my cell number with Ana,” Derek interjected before she started twirling in circles to look for it. Darcy snapped her fingers.  

“Perfect, call Derek. I’ll swing by sometime next week with those runes, okay?” 

Ana and Mason walked them to the door, Matheus babbling in Mason’s arms. Darcy and Derek stepped outside and took a deep breath when the door closed behind them. 

Darcy waited until they were walking down the stairs to say, “Stiles wants like five of those, y’know.” Derek missed a step and nearly tumbled all the way down the rest of them. He caught himself on the railing and glared back at her as she gasped for air, laughing herself sick. 

“Oh, that was priceless,” Darcy said, wiping at her eyes. 

“Not funny.” Derek turned away in a vain attempt to hide his blush. 

“It’s true, though,” she said. “He gets all dreamy about babies whenever we see one.” 

“He does love kids,” Derek admitted, a pleased smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. Darcy tucked her arm into his and leaned against his side. 

“Get on with it, then,” she ordered. “I can’t  _ wait  _ to be an aunt.” 

Derek rolled his eyes. “We’re not going to just-” 

“Oh, like you haven’t had a ring hidden away for years now,” Darcy interrupted. 

“I don’t-” 

“Back of your closet, hidden in the bunny slippers Laura bought you last Christmas,” Darcy said casually. Derek’s eyes widened. “Yeah, you really need a better hiding place.” 

“Why were you in my closet in the first place?” Derek asked grumpily. 

“I made a bet with Laura that you’d bought a ring already. She said you’d just mope about it for a while and second-guess Stiles’s feelings and make the whole thing way more dramatic than necessary.” Derek huffed. “Don’t worry, I set her straight. And by that I mean I agreed with her entirely, except that you’d do it with a ring stashed somewhere stupid.” 

“Sisters are not worth the trouble,” Derek announced. “I don’t want them anymore.” 

“Uh huh, sure.” Darcy dragged him along. “Quit being a drama queen and let’s go bother Boyd and Erica at the store.” Derek sighed loudly but let himself be pulled along. 

~*~ 

“Meeting eighteen point five of Team Mostly Human: New York,” Stiles announced, looking around Darcy’s living room. “Wait, we’re missing one. No- two!” 

“Danny’s running late,” Allison called from the kitchen. “Something about Jackson and full moon sex. I hung up pretty much immediately after that.” 

“Ugh.” Stiles wrinkled his nose. “That’s not something I ever want to hear about.” 

“Jackson says it’s payback for having to smell what you and Derek get up to all the time,” Danny said as he breezed into the apartment. 

Darcy laughed from her spot on the floor, catching the bag of candy Danny tossed her way. Lydia tugged on Darcy’s hair in annoyance. “Be still, or you’ll have a crooked braid.” 

“Oh, your hair looks good, Darce!” Allison climbed over the back of the couch with a giant bowl of popcorn. She dumped a bag of mini M&Ms into the bowl and watched the chocolate melt in satisfaction. 

“Wait, meeting eighteen point five?” Kira asked as she exited the bathroom. She tugged at the hem of Darcy’s oldest cotton shorts and climbed onto the couch. “What’s that about?” 

“We got through about half of a meeting before a ghoul crashed through the window and interrupted a few months ago,” Darcy explained. 

Stiles laughed. “And we were all  _ trashed, _ too.” 

“Try to fight an angry ghoul when you’re so drunk you can barely stand up,” Danny said, long-suffering. 

“That’s why we’re not allowed to meet in Lydia’s apartment anymore,” Darcy said. “Apparently it’s perfectly fine and dandy to put  _ mine _ at risk.” 

“Oh, please.” Lydia rolled her eyes as she worked on the another intricate braid in Darcy’s hair. Allison helpfully held onto the other completed strand that would make up the braid crown. “Laura’s apartment gets trashed all the time because werewolves, yours is a close second between werewolves, the God of Thunder, and the revolving door of assassins you’ve collected, and Stiles’s furniture ends up trashed because he and Derek fuck on every available surface.” 

“That’s true,” Stiles sighed, going boneless in the chair with a dreamy smile. Lydia wrinkled her nose at him in distaste. 

“I’m never touching anything inside your apartment again,” Kira told him. 

“Probably a safe bet,” Darcy agreed. “I had to put up special wards to drown out the noise.” 

“I want some,” Allison said immediately. 

Danny nodded in agreement. “Can I get some wards that work the other way around, too?” There was a beat of silence while they worked out the implications, and then the room burst into laughter. Danny just grinned, unrepentant. “What? We’ve had some neighbors complain.” 

“I hear that,” Kira said, sipping directly from the pitcher of strawberry daiquiris. She looked up, seemed to notice the amused side-eye from everyone in the room, and blushed. “What?” 

“Tell me,” Lydia purred. “Just what is the arrangement back home?” 

Stiles shot her a betrayed look. “I don’t need to hear about this,  _ Lydia!” _ He rubbed dramatically at his ears. “Scott’s my best bro! And he’s still in Cali with Isaac, he can’t defend his honor while their girlfriend is here on a business trip.” 

“Put some wards up,” Lydia said dismissively. “I want details.” Danny nodded vehemently across the room. 

“It’s fine, it’s…” Kira seemed to get distracted and trailed off, staring into empty space. “Yeah, it’s good.” Darcy saw everyone’s eyebrows raise at Kira’s dreamy tone. Lydia looked delighted. Kira straightened abruptly and cleared her throat. “Everything is fine.” 

“You said that,” Allison told her, trying not to laugh. “Once or twice.” 

“Why are we talking about my relationship with Scott and Isaac when  _ Darcy _ has a crush on the world’s most legendary assassin!” Kira said, pointing accusingly at Darcy. 

Darcy squawked in protest. “Hey! Don’t throw me to these vultures!” The room turned on her. “Traitor,” she grumbled at Kira, who smiled apologetically. 

Darcy looked around the room. “It’s not a crush.” Stiles snorted in disbelief. “It’s not!” 

“Oh no, she’s in  _ denial,” _ Danny sighed. “That makes this much worse.” 

“Typical.” Lydia handed a second pitcher down to Darcy with a somewhat threatening smile. “Drink up, Lewis. We’re talking about this, whether you want to or not.” Darcy eyed the daiquiri, then her friends’ faces. She’d need more than a few of these to get through this inquisition squad. Darcy gulped at the banshee’s expression and reached for the drink.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have a lot of thoughts about baby werewolves, and needed to put some of them in this fic. ¯\\_(ツ)_/¯
> 
> (Also, I can confirm that glitter bombs are petty af and so, so satisfying for revenge purposes. 10/10 would recommend.)


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Got another chapter written this morning, so here's another early update!

“Did you get my note?” Darcy asked as she breezed back into the lab, juggling a handful of bags and a drink holder full of coffee cups. 

“Of course I got your note, you taped it to my forehead while I was sleeping.” Jane rolled her eyes and tossed another notebook over her shoulder. 

“I didn’t want to wake you,” Darcy said in her defense. She held out a bagel and smiled winningly at the Fae. “I brought food back. And coffee.” Jane made grabby hands for the coffee. Darcy handed it over and stepped out of arm’s reach. 

“I have everything you need in that bag right there.” Jane pointed at the huge duffle bag by the door to the lab, crammed full with the handheld machines that Darcy had spent the last week straight building for her. “I’ll text you when to turn everything on.” 

Darcy nodded, sipping her coffee. “I’m taking one of the tower trucks,” she told Jane. “Because I’m not carrying all of that.” 

“Mkay,” Jane said absently, turning to collect her own bag. “I’ll be about ten miles down the coast from you, and I’ll work my way further up if it goes well.” She frowned at the whiteboard, riddled with equations and printouts from New York City’s atmospheric readings. “If all of that is what I think it is, there’s a possibility that I can open a stable enough wormhole to connect with the Bifrost. Stable enough for actual travel, which is what I’ve been trying to do.”

“Then Heimdall won’t have to do all the work?” Darcy asked. Ever since Thor had explained about the Asgardian Gatekeeper, Darcy would wave to the cosmos at Heimdall every night. She’d have to tell Thor to ask if Heimdall saw her the next time he went home- Darcy wanted more interplanetary friends. She was still trying to recover from her minor crush on Sif from the last time the lady warrior had joined them on earth. 

“Yeah.” Jane nodded. “Then, if I can get a clear feel of the process and the wormhole itself, I may be able to recreate it without all of this.” She waved a hand at the scattered machines and papers and notes in the lab. 

“Thor said that Loki mentioned secret paths between the worlds,” Darcy reminded her friend. “Are you looking for those or trying to create your own?” 

“I haven’t decided yet,” Jane admitted. “But once I figure out how to open the wormhole without causing a disturbance-” 

“In the force?” 

“Would you stop saying that?” Jane rolled her eyes as they dragged the duffle bags into the elevator, smacking the button for the garage. “I  _ meant  _ without causing a disturbance in the atmosphere that could spiral into a black hole or let another homicidal alien army through.” 

“New York definitely wouldn’t thank you for that,” Darcy agreed. “Just because you can take over the world doesn’t mean you  _ should, _ Janie.” 

“I’m not taking over the world.” 

“Not yet,” Darcy muttered. “Can I just point out that you live with superheroes now? They’re morally obligated to stop you if you become a supervillain.” 

The elevator doors opened before Jane could respond, revealing a very sweaty Sam Wilson. He muttered darkly under his breath, wiping at his face with a towel. 

Sam looked up, saw them, and stepped aside to let them pass. Darcy eyed him as she dragged her bag out, ignoring the ominous clinking noises from inside it. “Who’s a pain in your ass?” She asked him.

Sam helped Jane with her bag when the doors closed on it. “Who do you think?” He grouched. 

“Why do you keep running with them?” Jane asked. “I mean, props to you for keeping up with them in the first place-” 

“Because they’re literally superhumans,” Darcy interjected. 

“I have to stay in shape if I’m running around, saving the world every other weekend.” Sam sighed. He helped them load the bags into two trucks reserved for Stark employees and pointed out the keys for them. 

“Good point,” Jane conceded. “Where are the super soldiers, anyway?” 

“Jogging to Brooklyn,” Sam said flatly. “After we just ran for three hours this morning. You would not believe the shit they gave me when I tapped out before my heart exploded.” 

Darcy winced in sympathy. “Go take a nap,” she suggested, patting Sam on the shoulder. “And then eat all the food labeled for them in the fridge.” 

Sam brightened. “Good idea, Lewis.” He stepped into the elevator, looking much more enthusiastic than a few seconds ago. Darcy grinned and waved as the doors closed. 

“Three hours of jogging with those two?” Darcy said as Jane tried to figure out where she’d put her notebook. Darcy picked it up off the hood of the truck and handed it to the Fae. “Sounds like a nightmare. They  _ never  _ get tired.” She’d let Steve talk her into jogging with him once and only once. It ended with her shoving him into a fountain because he looked fresh as a fucking daisy after six miles at seven in the morning. Darcy could not abide cheerful morning people. She couldn’t do it.  

“You hate running, anyway,” Jane reminded her. “I’ve heard you bitch about how much you hate it for years.” 

“I hate it because it’s both boring and necessary,” Darcy sighed. Considering her life, it was important to stay in shape because odds were, she’d be fighting or running for her life at some point in the week. 

“Uh huh. You know where to go?” 

“Yes. Do you?” 

“... Yes.” 

Darcy narrowed her eyes at Jane’s hesitation. “Keep your phone on you and call me when you get lost.” 

“New York is stupid,” Jane grumbled as she climbed into the car. “And if one more person tells me ‘it’s just a grid!” I will hit them, Darcy, I will.” 

“Don’t talk to anyone,” Darcy advised, trying not to laugh. “Just to be on the safe side.” She waited until Jane pulled out of the garage to climb into her own truck, double checking the map on her phone. Darcy would head towards the Bay Ridge area in Brooklyn, closer to the lower bay. Jane would stay by the upper bay and then move back towards Manhattan to triangulate. 

Darcy parked near the coast, close enough that she could tell the long wooden boardwalk nearby wouldn’t be safe to walk on. Instead, she set up on the small strip of grass between the water and the parking lot, working fast. She sent Jane a text when everything was ready and, after the Fae’s go-ahead, fired up the machines. 

Darcy spent the next hour and a half sunning herself on the hood of the truck, warmed by the early-spring sun. There was a lot of waiting around in astrophysics, she mused. Waiting on data collection, waiting for the program to finish running, waiting on Jane to figure out how to explain the concepts in small words for Darcy. 

She’d probably understand it fine if she tried, but it was much more fun to let Jane consolidate the equations and notes and theories into a paragraph for Darcy. Her phone buzzed- a text from Jane, who was now moving to the third location to set up. Darcy sent back the affirmative and slid off the car to check on the progress of her own part. 

Darcy crouched by the small, portable magnetic relay and studied the screen. She patted it gently when the readouts came back clear and on-target and stood, groaning when her knees creaked in protest. Movement far down the coast line caught her attention, and Darcy shook her head in amazement when two figures appeared in the distance, jogging side-by-side. 

“Ridiculous,” Darcy muttered. She returned Steve’s wave as they passed by her, both of them very obviously wondering what the hell she was doing out here. They didn’t stop though, apparently too determined to run the entire state of New York in one day. 

A faint hum drew Darcy’s attention back to the machines. She frowned down at them, wondering where the noise was coming from. Her phone buzzed somewhere back by the truck but she ignored it, too concerned that one of the machines was about to have a meltdown. Of the exploding variety. Again. 

Darcy checked every inch of the set up and found nothing- but the noise continued. It was louder now, a string of notes that transformed into a floating melody. Darcy shook her head at the strange feeling in her ears, mildly worried that she was hearing things. 

But no- the melody became a song, something lovely and aching that made Darcy catch her breath. Darcy looked towards the water and cocked her head, entranced. Yes. It was coming from the water. 

She blinked, and found herself standing on the decaying boardwalk with no recollection of actually moving. Distantly, Darcy was aware of Steve spinning around as the song gained intensity and volume. He ran towards her in a flat-out sprint. Bucky was right beside him, shouting at her. 

Darcy could only hear the music. She stumbled forward, numb to everything but the song, and barely reacted when the boards crumbled beneath her feet. 

Darcy tumbled into the water. 

She gasped in shock at the cold ocean water and promptly swallowed half a gallon of it, feeling her fingers go numb as she tried to fight her way back to the surface. Her heartbeat pounded in her ears, adrenaline surging and battling back the lure of the music. 

A flash of movement had her freezing in place, eyes stinging at the salt water. Darcy peered through the murky water and felt her heart skip a beat at the creature swimming lazily towards her. 

Maybe, from a distance, the creature could be mistaken for a mermaid from the ocean legends. But up close, mere feet away from it, Darcy knew this was a predator, through and through. 

The siren’s eyes were large, unblinking, as it stared at her in hunger and curiosity. Slit nostrils and a wide mouth that could be mistaken as sensuous if the mouthful of razor-sharp teeth remained hidden. The siren’s shoulders tapered into an impossibly narrow waist, giving it a dramatic hourglass figure. 

Fewer ribs, different anatomy, Darcy thought a little hysterically. Deliberate, maybe, to lure sailors closer with an appealing figure. Just in time to be grabbed by four-fingered, talon-tipped hands. Another siren swam closer, sliding effortlessly through the water with a thick, powerful tail that looked more like an eel than anything else. 

Darcy quickly threw a shield between herself and the sirens, bumping them backwards a few feet. They hissed in annoyance and confusion, circling. 

A strong arm wrapped around Darcy’s waist just then, hauling her back onto the boardwalk. Her rescuer held her upright as she coughed up saltwater, water streaming down her face.

“What the fuck? Can you not swim?” Bucky asked at Darcy's back, holding her steady as she gasped for air. “Or do you just have a death wish?” 

“Sirens,” Darcy gasped, pointing at the water. Steve, standing beside them, nodded grimly. 

“What?” Bucky asked, looking between them. “I didn’t hear nothin’.” 

“I did,” Steve said. He crouched down in front of Darcy, studying her in concern. “They didn’t hurt you, did they?” 

She shook her head, letting Bucky take most of her weight. “No. I think I surprised them.” 

“They didn’t know you were a spark?” Steve asked. “Huh.” 

“Hold on,” Bucky demanded. “What the hell’s going on?” 

“Steve has Fae blood,” Darcy suggested, wiping at her face. She shivered in the light breeze. Bucky swore under his breath and unwrapped the flannel tied around his waist. Darcy wrapped it around her shoulders gratefully. “Maybe that’s why you heard the song and Bucky didn’t?” 

A throat cleared behind them. “That’s a good theory. Typically, the song is directed solely at their prey.” Darcy whirled around and nearly fell right back into the water in surprise. Bucky and Steve both reached for her, straightening her so she could lunge for the woman grinning at her at the end of the boardwalk. 

“Naomi!” Darcy leaped towards Naomi and hugged her tightly. Naomi grimaced at Darcy’s cold, wet clothes pressed against her but hugged Darcy back.  

“Headfirst into trouble, as usual,” Naomi said. “You haven’t changed a bit.” 

“You’re  _ here,” _ Darcy said, amazed. She ignored the trouble comment, which she was quickly becoming used to doing. Everyone’s a critic. “When did you get here? How did you find me? Why were you on a boat?” Naomi just laughed at her. 

Steve and Bucky hovered uncertainly behind Darcy. Bucky stared suspiciously back at the water. “Oh, right. Naomi, this is Steve and Bucky. Guys, this is Naomi.” Steve shook Naomi’s hand with a polite but confused smile. Bucky picked up the flannel and handed it back to Darcy, who accepted it with a distracted “thanks.” 

“I’ve been trying to track you down all day,” Naomi told her. She gestured back at the truck, where Darcy’s phone was visible on the hood. 

“Oops.” 

“I called Stiles, who called Jane, and got a general idea of where you were. Looks like I was too late to help, though. Lucky you two were here.” 

“I had it covered,” Darcy said dismissively. Bucky rolled his eyes to the clouds, seeming to pray for patience. 

“You good, Darce?” Steve asked. She nodded. “You should change out of those wet clothes soon, or you’ll get sick.” 

“I’ll stop by the apartment,” Darcy reassured him. “Tell Jane where I’m going, if you two are heading back to the tower.” 

“We are,” Steve said. Bucky ran his assessing gaze over Darcy one last time, studied Naomi carefully- lingering on the ivy tattoo climbing up the side of her neck- and then nodded in agreement. 

“Thank you!” Darcy called after them as they picked up their jog again. Bucky just raised a hand in acknowledgement and kept running. 

“So,” Naomi said. Darcy sighed at the other spark’s raised eyebrow. “That was interesting.” 

“We’re not talking about it,” Darcy grumbled. She started collecting the machines, shoving them quickly back into the duffle bag. 

“Not yet, we’re not,” Naomi said cheerfully. She helped Darcy lift the bag into the truck and then shoved her into the passenger’s seat. “Don’t even think about it, you just got dunked by a couple of sirens.” 

“Speaking of,” Darcy started, leaning forward to turn the heat on high. “Was that an attempted assassination attempt by the Fae?” 

“Nah. They were probably just hungry,” Naomi said, guiding them confidently into traffic and turning towards Darcy’s apartment. “The sirens may have started out as Unseelie Court Fae, but that was centuries ago.” 

“Centuries?” Darcy squeaked. She huddled closer to the air vents. 

“Over time, they became their own separate entities,” Naomi explained. She eyed Darcy in mild concern when she shivered again. “The ocean is too vast for anyone to effectively enforce the Fae Queens’ orders. The sirens rule themselves, now. There are tribes, more than we can count, that elect a queen to rule. They have very intricate customs and languages, for a race of killer mermaids.” 

“So they weren’t trying to kill me?” 

“Oh, no, they definitely were.” Naomi grinned at Darcy’s expression. “But probably just because they wanted to eat you. Not for any other motives. They stay out of the supernatural interspecies relations, other than their general rule of eating anything with a pulse.” 

“How reassuring,” Darcy said under her breath. “So, you never said what you were doing in the middle of the ocean. Remember?” She asked when Naomi just smiled blandly at her. “You know, not answering your phone, making Stiles and me think you were dead.” 

“Honestly.” Naomi rolled her eyes. “I wasn’t dead.” 

“Obviously. So, what  _ were  _ you doing?” 

Naomi sighed. She pulled onto the street that led to Darcy’s apartment and didn’t speak until they were parked in front of the building. “I’ve been tracking rumors of the Unseelie Queen’s movements.” 

Dread pooled in Darcy’s stomach. “Why? What have you heard?”  A strange expression crossed Naomi’s face and Darcy paused. “Or what have you seen?” She asked instead, wondering if Naomi had witnessed an Unseelie Fae, too. 

Naomi looked at her sharply, her blue eyes searching Darcy’s face for the answer to some unknown question. Darcy just blinked back at her, baffled. “Just a few raised concerns,” she said eventually, relaxing. 

“But should you be…” Darcy trailed off, uncertain. 

Naomi ran a hand over her buzzed head and sighed. She reached over, one side of her mouth quirked into a smile, and tapped Darcy on the chest, just below the hollow of her neck. Darcy nearly shouted in surprise at the warmth that flooded through her veins- familiar, but also not. 

She looked across the console at Naomi and stared at her, open mouthed. “You got your spark back.” 

Naomi’s smile widened into a grin. “I did. Do me a favor, though, and keep that quiet.” 

“Stiles and I never told anyone who you were,” Darcy reassured her. She blinked back the rising tears and smiled at Naomi. “I’m just so happy that you’re back.” Not to mention the relief, knowing there was another spark out there that had their backs. 

“No sappy shit today, kid,” Naomi said, getting out of the truck. Darcy scrambled out after her. “Let’s go inside, and you can introduce me to your pack.” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Aaaand she's back!! Naomi is here so everyone can stop worrying :)
> 
> EDIT: I forgot to mention that the sirens are HEAVILY inspired by Mira Grant's novel Into the Drowning Deep. I would definitely recommend it if you're into mermaids & mysteries- it's one of my favorite books!


	9. Chapter 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Somewhat late because I'm an idiot and forgot what day of the week it was. 
> 
> The sparks are back together, Jane has Plans, and lots of bonding thrown in the middle of it all!

"So, how’s my tree?” Stiles asked, rummaging in a drawer in Darcy’s kitchen for silverware. His fox tattoo frolicked through the forest inked on his forearm, a flash of color through grey-black trees.  

“Thriving,” Naomi said flatly. “It doesn’t need water or soil, apparently.”

“I made a magic tree?” Stiles asked, delighted. 

Darcy rolled her eyes. “We already know it was a magic tree.” She pulled the tortillas from the oven and set them on the table beside the fajitas they’d spent the evening cooking. 

“Yeah, but we didn’t know that it didn’t need normal tree things,” Stiles argued. 

“What keeps it alive, then?” Darcy asked Naomi. 

Naomi shrugged. “Stiles’s spark, probably. They’re linked, whether he’s physically present or not.” She joined them at the table. 

Darcy beamed. “Just like old times.” There was an almighty crash somewhere in the alley outside, and the sound of sirens and honking cars drifted through the cracked window. “Well, sort of,” she conceded, missing the tranquility of Naomi’s home. 

Stiles snorted and lounged back in his chair. “That’s New York for you. If it isn’t supernaturals going berserk, it’s a supervillain trying their luck against the Avengers.” 

“How is that going, by the way?” Naomi asked. She paused her eating and waved in the general direction of the window. “The supernatural community, integration, that sort of thing.” 

Darcy and Stiles shared a considering look. “Not too bad, anymore,” Darcy said. Stiles nodded in agreement. “It was a rough start- some weren’t too happy that an enforcer moved to their city. Especially the packs and other supes that sort of took over.” 

“Bullies,” Stiles explained. “They grabbed power and didn’t want to let it go, not when they could threaten the less powerful supes into doing whatever they wanted.” 

“And you?” Naomi asked, studying him closely. “What’s your role here?” 

“Well, Darcy is the more visible spark,” Stiles said. He gestured at Darcy with his fork. “She stepped right back into the swing of things, from when she’d been in New York a few years ago.” Stiles flicked his eyes to Naomi. ”Most of the information about me was just rumors, conjecture at best.” 

“You used that,” Naomi said, an approving smile on her face. 

“I did.” Stiles grinned at Darcy. “I’m the knife in the dark, here in the city.” 

Darcy huffed at him but had to smile. “He’s been doing the dirty work,” Darcy told Naomi. “Which he thinks I don’t know about.” 

“Look,” Stiles said, leaning forward to brace his arms on the table. His eyes were bright, movements animated. “It’s a good system, okay? The supernatural community has you as the fully functioning Sentinel, here to uphold the peace and whatever. A pillar of what was and what will be again.” 

“How poetic,” Naomi murmured, reaching for her drink. Darcy smothered a laugh. 

“But if you’re getting into daily fights with Alphas like Eric Glenn-” 

“Hate him,” Darcy interjected.

“-or struggling to keep the Seelie Queen’s Fae off of you, then you’re going to lose the respect and notoriety you’ve earned. It’ll look like you can’t handle the job,” Stiles continued. 

“He has a point,” Naomi said. 

“But it’s not fair that  _ you  _ are the one that has to handle that stuff,” Darcy argued. “You’re a spark, too, a Sentinel just like I am!” 

“But no one knows anything for sure about me,” Stiles said, eyes gleaming. “And that adds a little fear to the mix. People are going to hesitate to come after you if they’ve heard rumors about me, about what I’ve done, and what I’m willing to do to keep the peace.” He noticed Naomi’s raised eyebrows and rolled his eyes. “Which is nothing  _ terrible, _ just necessary.” 

“Scott is his entire moral compass,” Darcy told Naomi dryly. “It’s been a challenge having them apart. For everyone.” 

“He isn’t my entire moral compass,” Stiles grumbled. Darcy eyed him doubtfully. 

Naomi cocked her head, thinking. “Tactically, it’s a smart move,” she said eventually, drawing the discussion back. “It gives the impression that there’s at least one other spark in allegiance with Darcy. You’re a target right now because it seems like you’re the only active spark in the world. Having Stiles work through New York and adding to the rumors about him helps that.” She stole a piece of chicken from Stiles’s plate and added, “But it can’t last forever. And you’d have to be careful how far you take it.” 

Stiles drummed his fingers on the table, knee bouncing. “Otherwise it can turn into something else.” 

“A tyrannical spark, or one that may not actually be on my side,” Darcy said, nodding. “We’ll have to work out the best time and place for you to step into the light.” 

“Something dramatic,” Stiles said. “And heroic, definitely.” 

Naomi snorted. “Image is important,” she agreed. “And the first impression can go a long way.” She eyed Darcy. “Speaking of first impressions...” 

Darcy felt the heat rise to her face and tried to school her face into Natasha-levels of neutral. Judging by the looks the other two gave her, she didn’t succeed. “It’s not like that,” she said finally. 

“Wait, what?” Stiles looked between them with a confused frown. 

“Nothing,” Darcy muttered. 

“I showed up just in time to see Tall, Dark, and Handsome fish her out of the ocean this morning,” Naomi said, grinning wickedly. “He was  _ very  _ concerned about her.” 

Stiles stared at Darcy. “Why the fuck were you in the ocean? The water’s, like, thirty degrees right now.” 

“Trust me, I’m aware of that,” Darcy huffed. “I met a couple sirens.” 

“Oh, shit, really?!” Stiles jerked upright, excited. “Did you update the database?” 

“Not yet. I’m still recovering. It wasn’t a great experience.” 

“They were looking for food,” Naomi told Stiles. “Darcy was close to the shore and got caught up in their song.” 

“Awesome,” Stiles breathed. “What did they look like? Mermaids? Did they try to eat you?” 

“Yes, asshole.” Darcy kicked him underneath the table. Stiles winced and rubbed his shin. “They looked like creepy, demonic fish-people.” 

Naomi shrugged. “They’re Fae. Over time, they adapted their anatomy to lure humans closer. Wider and higher ribs to look like a big chest, tiny waistline, wider hips at the base of their tail. Some of them,” she continued, “the ones way in the deep ocean, anyway, have bioluminescent hair to draw their prey in.” 

“That’s  _ so  _ cool,” Stiles said happily. “Are they like the naiads? Do they hate men?” 

“Naiads don’t hate men, they’re terrified of them,” Naomi corrected. “And no, sirens aren’t picky about what they eat.” She grinned when Stiles blanched. “There’s a legend, from who knows where, about the women that were tossed overboard or drowned at sea. Naiads are gentle spirits, generally. But it’s said that the women that were drowned, the ones that wanted revenge, they came back as sirens. Those that didn’t want revenge, but loved the water, became naiads.” 

“But sirens are Fae,” Darcy pointed out. “You can’t become Fae, can you?” 

“Doubtful. But magic- especially Fae magic- works in ways we don’t always understand. We can’t rule anything out,” Naomi said. 

“Plus, I kind of like the thought of them getting revenge,” Stiles added. “It’s a fitting end.” 

“I see you haven’t lost your thirst for blood,” Naomi muttered. She glanced back at the door to Darcy’s apartment. “Your wolves are scratching at the door.” 

“They don’t like being locked out,” Darcy sighed. “It hurts their feelings.” 

“They like you, though,” Stiles told Naomi. “Or they wouldn’t have stayed away this long.” He stood and started gathering plates. “Even though it’s killing them to be kept in the dark.” 

“We never told  _ anyone _ about what you are,” Darcy said. “Not even the pack.” 

“And now I’m here, being very suspicious,” Naomi added with a laugh. “That won’t cause any problems for you, will it?”

“Nah.” Stiles waved a hand dismissively. “They can deal with not knowing everything about our lives.” 

There was a thud at the door, loud enough that Darcy growled under her breath and went to make sure they hadn’t broken it. “Three sets of wards and they’re still not giving up.” 

“It’s okay,” Naomi said. “I can deal with a few enthusiastic werewolves.” Darcy sighed and let the ‘wolves in. 

Naomi walked to Stark Tower with Darcy the next morning. “For safety,” she’d said with a wink, but Darcy watched the way supernaturals on the way reacted- curiosity and wariness for the tall woman at Darcy’s side. Naomi’s dark skin was smooth and unblemished, the beautiful tattoos on her neck and back hidden with a glamor rune. 

“Safety, huh?” Darcy murmured. 

Naomi met the gaze of a werewolf watching them across the street and raised a brow. He turned and walked quickly away. “I’m trying to give you some street cred here. They don’t know who or what I am,” Naomi said lowly. 

“Only that you look like you can kick some serious ass,” Darcy said with a quiet laugh as they waited for the crosswalk light to turn. “It’s the icicle eyes,” she teased. “You could kill a man with one look.” 

Naomi snorted and cut those ghost eyes towards Darcy. “If only.” 

Darcy took Naomi to the lab with her. “I have to introduce you to Jane. She’s great.” She scanned her keycard and waited for the doors to the lab to open. 

“The Seelie Queen’s daughter?” Naomi asked, torn between skepticism and amusement. 

“Trust me,” Darcy assured her. “Jane’s good people.” They entered the lab and Darcy froze at the sight of Lydia and Jane working together. “Uh oh.”

Tony appeared behind Naomi and Darcy, peering between them into the lab. “Are  _ all _ astrophysicists hot and scary?” He dodged the elbow Darcy jammed into his stomach. 

“Are you  _ trying  _ to get yourself launched into space?” Darcy demanded. 

“NASA sent her, apparently,” Tony said, ignoring the question. “She knows Jane.” 

Darcy scoffed. “Lydia goes where she wants, dude.” 

“Oh, no surprise you know this one, too.” Tony muttered. “Exactly how many people  _ do  _ you know, Lewis?” He seemed to notice Naomi and blinked at her in surprise. 

“Lydia was mine first,” Darcy argued. No one looked at her. “Never mind. This is Naomi, a friend of mine.” Tony nodded in greeting and refocused on the scientists who just noticed Darcy’s arrival. 

“Oh, hey Darce,” Jane said, setting down her notebook. “I thought you might want the day off.” 

“I’m fine,” Darcy groaned, rolling her eyes. She noticed Tony’s narrow eyed look and sighed. “I fell into the ocean yesterday during the field trip, but nothing happened. Ask Steve if you don’t believe me!” 

“Like I’m going to ask history’s biggest trouble maker to back up your story,” Tony said derisively. 

“Fine, ask Barnes, then,” Darcy countered. “He’s in your lab, anyway, staring at all the evil genius tech you have thrown around.” They’d passed him on the way in. Darcy had carefully bit back her smile at the sight of Bucky, staring between the design blueprints on one of Tony’s holoscreens and the latest suit upgrades. He’d always been a fan of the sci-fi stuff, according to Steve. Tony’s lab was basically nirvana to a tech nerd like Bucky. 

“Again?” Tony demanded. “I don’t understand how he keeps getting in there, Jarvis knows to check with me before letting the Winter Soldier go through my stuff.” He stomped off, muttering to himself. 

“The Winter Soldier?” Naomi asked judgmentally. “Really, Darcy?” 

Lydia smirked from across the lab. “I like her.” 

“You said that already,” Darcy grouched. She pointed to Jane. “Dr. Jane Foster, astrophysicist and all-around genius.” Jane blushed and waved. “This is Naomi. She saved my life after the kidnapping.” When Darcy had wanted nothing more than to lay down and never get up again. 

Naomi twitched a little in surprise as everyone in the room smiled at her- Lydia and Jane grateful, Darcy adoring. Naomi cleared her throat. “Nice to meet you,” she said brusquely. “I, uh, have some errands to run now. I’ll see you later.” She slipped out the door. 

“What was that all about?” Lydia asked, frowning after Naomi. 

“Feelings.” Darcy shrugged, unbothered by Naomi’s abrupt exit. “It’s her kryptonite.” 

“She’s sort of your mentor, right?” Jane asked absently, having already moved on. 

Darcy nodded, then noticed Jane had turned away and couldn’t see her. “Yeah. She has a lot of knowledge on magic and the supernatural. She’s a world traveler, collects books and first-hand accounts, stuff like that.” Darcy made sure the lab’s wards were still holding and added, “Plus, she helped me figure out the whole teleporting thing I did that one time.” 

Jane froze. 

Lydia eyed the other Fae warily. Darcy shifted uncertainly in the tense room, wondering if this was how mice felt underneath a cat’s sharp gaze. “You can teleport?” Jane asked dangerously. 

“I did, once,” Darcy answered, a little nervous. She’d tried to repeat the event, time and time again, but never managed. Besides, she felt a little like Dorothy every time she squeezed her eyes shut and wished for home. 

Darcy hadn’t succeeded yet, and felt like an idiot every time she tried and failed again. “Maybe twice.” Who knows how many times she’d done it when she was little- when her mother’s spark was in control. 

“This whole time?” Jane demanded, slamming her hands on the desk. She swiped the stack of papers aside, ignoring Darcy’s yelp of protest when they crashed to the ground. “I need readings  _ right now, _ this could change  _ everything.”  _

“What? How?” Darcy asked as Jane dragged her across the lab. 

“Highly theoretical teleportation metaphysics,” Lydia chimed in, watching in amusement as Jane started connecting patches to Darcy’s skin. The Fae ran wires to a disjointed collection of machines, muttering under her breath. 

“But I can’t do it,” Darcy reminded them. “The last time I managed it, I was point five seconds away from being horrifically mauled to death.” She winced when Jane yanked her shirt aside to connect another one to her chest. “Also, I call it shadow travel. Teleporting sounds stupid.” 

“Teleporting is what it  _ is,” _ Jane said in annoyance. “You can have a say in naming it when we figure out how to make you do it again.”  

Darcy shook her head wildly at the gleam in Lydia’s eyes, mirrored by Jane a second later. “I am  _ not  _ almost dying for your experiment, Jane!” 

“Am I interrupting?” Maria Hill paused at the door to the lab, studying Jane’s manic expression and Darcy, covered in wires and patches. 

“Yes,” Jane snapped. 

“No!” Darcy said, trying to wiggle free. “Not at all, please stay. Save me.” 

Maria braved the lab, eyeing Jane warily. “I wanted your opinion on something,” she told Darcy. 

“Which you need somewhere that’s not here, right?” Darcy prompted, inching away from Jane when the Fae scowled at her. “Somewhere far away from the lab?” 

Maria’s mouth curled upwards. “Of course.” 

“Not now,” Jane hissed. “It can wait!” 

“It really can’t,” Maria said apologetically. She winked at Darcy when Jane’s back was turned. “It’s about security stuff for the tower, very important.” 

“Hear that, Jane? I have to go, right this second,” Darcy said and quickly moved out of reach. 

“You can’t run forever!” Jane called after her. Darcy tugged on Maria’s arm to make her walk faster. 

“I can explain what I know and have theorized for now,” Lydia offered to Jane. Darcy mouthed a ‘thank you’ to Lydia on the way out the door. 

“Did I interrupt a hostage situation?” Maria asked as they walked very quickly away in case Jane decided to put up a fight. 

“Yes, that’s exactly what that was.” Darcy didn’t relax until they were down two flights of stairs and heading towards Maria’s office. She threw herself onto the red couch with a sigh as Maria shut the door behind them. “Thanks for the rescue. That wasn’t going to be pretty.” With half a thought, Darcy warded the office using her armband tattoo. 

Maria looked unimpressed. “Please, make yourself at home.” 

“Be nice, I almost got eaten by sirens yesterday,” Darcy said petulantly. Maria’s eyes flickered towards the door, somewhat alarmed. “I warded your office,” Darcy reassured her. 

The tension dropped from the former agent’s shoulders and she returned her attention to Darcy. “Sirens? Really? What’s next with you, a zombie invasion?” 

“Don’t even joke,” Darcy warned. She decided not to mention that technically, Boyd and Stiles  _ did  _ have a plan for potential zombies. It was under tab six of the ‘Apocalypse’ section. “What’d you need me for, anyway?” 

Maria leaned back in her chair, arms crossed. “You know there are a few agents that followed me here from SHIELD.” Darcy nodded. “Most of my agents were supernaturals.” 

“Supes in Stark Tower,” Darcy said thoughtfully. “Are they having issues blending in, or adjusting?” 

“No, they’re all seasoned agents. My issue is the handful of supernaturals that have come through the tower that could cause an issue.” 

“Other employees?” 

“A couple new ones, yeah. Plus a few random supes just looking for trouble- your kind, specifically. It’s hard to keep secrets like this contained when a werewolf is having a meltdown in the lobby.” Maria handed her a file. “These are the agents I have in charge. They’re the frontline, immediate response security so a human guard isn’t caught up in a supernatural bitch fight.” 

Darcy flipped through the file, nodding to herself. “A Fae specializing in glamor at the cameras, a ‘wolf at the front doors to assess the incoming supes, and a druid to mark the ones with magic. This is very thorough,” Darcy said, impressed. “And they’re all in positions to maximize their abilities.”

“But we never know if there’s a threat until they’re already in the building, past the guards,” Maria said, leaning forward. “That’s half the battle lost, right there.” 

“You want wards?” Darcy asked, glancing up. 

Maria nodded. “Yeah. I’ve heard you can do something to keep people with bad intentions out.” 

“It’s a little more complicated than that.” Darcy chewed on her bottom lip, thinking. “With the wards I’ve done in the past, I can set them up to stop anyone with bad intentions towards those in the home. Usually five or six people per ward, just to keep the magic stronger and more effective. The tower, though...” 

“You’d have to tweak that a bit,” Maria said in understanding. “Apply it to residents only? No, then the employees might still be at risk.” 

“Let me think on it,” Darcy said. “I’ll come up with something.” Her wards flared briefly, warning her of someone approaching Maria’s office. She looked over as Pepper Potts knocked on the door and waited patiently as Maria crossed the room and opened it. 

“Oh,” Pepper said in surprise at seeing Darcy on the couch. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to interrupt.” 

“No worries,” Darcy said easily. “Maria just saved me from Jane’s enthusiasm earlier. I’m hiding in here until Jane forgets what crazy thing she wanted to make me do.” Which wasn’t fucking likely, but she’d deal with that later. 

Pepper’s polite smile widened, became more genuine. Darcy wondered how many people ever saw the dimple in Pepper’s right cheek that appeared when she smiled for real. “I was just coming to discuss the security for my trip next week,” she told Maria. Pepper smiled at Darcy again, conspiratorial this time. “And maybe take my shoes off and complain about the board, too.” 

Darcy laughed and stood, passing the file back to Maria. “I’ll leave you to it,” she said. “Tony said he’d show me how he recalibrates his suits, so I’m going to sneak past Jane to go learn how to do that.” 

She headed for the door, and then hesitated before exiting the office. Pepper was always cool and composed, but it was interesting to Darcy that she came to Maria to talk. Life at the top must be lonely, she supposed. Darcy took a chance and offered, “You know, Jane and I do midnight margaritas once a month. It’s an open invitation to whoever wants to come.” 

Pepper seemed pleased by the invitation. “I just might take you up on that.” 

“Women only,” Maria chimed in. “A night away from the rest of the idiots in the tower.” 

“Better and better,” Pepper sighed. “Yes, if I’m in town I would love to come. Oh! Before I forget, there’s a small dinner tonight. Natasha and Clint are back. They had a bit of a rough time, wherever they were.” 

“So you’re throwing them a party?” Maria asked skeptically. Darcy agreed- that would be the last thing Natasha would like to do after a bad mission. 

Pepper shook her head. “No, this was all Tony. He figured they could decompress in a familiar environment, with friends and comfort food.” She paused. “I wasn’t supposed to tell you that, though.” 

“What, that Tony Stark has a heart?” Darcy asked. “Already worked that one out on my own.” Maria tipped her head in agreement. 

Pepper smiled quietly. “Something like that.” 

~*~

Darcy kicked her feet from her seat on one of the barstools in the tower’s common area. She propped her chin on one hand and grinned across the bar. “Go fish.” 

“Liar!” Clint cried. “I  _ know  _ you have a seven!” 

Natasha, whom Darcy had passed the card to only minutes ago, cleared her throat. “She doesn’t. My turn. Do you have any sevens?” She asked Clint with an innocent smile. 

“What?!” Clint shouted, outraged. Darcy and Jane cackled. “You’re cheating, all of you!” He threw his cards down and stomped off. 

“This is fun,” Jane said cheerfully. 

“Yeah,” Darcy agreed. “Nat, teach us how to swindle at other card games.” 

Steve ambled over, sipping at a glass of mead Thor had brought back from Asgard for him. “What’re you guys playing?” He asked, sliding onto the stool beside Darcy. 

Natasha eyed him dangerously. “Poker, or blackjack?” 

“Both,” Darcy decided. “I don’t know how to play either.” 

“Really?” Jane asked. “Not even poker?” 

Darcy lifted a shoulder in a half-hearted shrug. “We always played Swedish Rummy,” she explained. “It got so competitive we had to ban all other card games.  _ Including  _ Go Fish.” 

Raised voices across the room caught their attention- an argument between Sam, Bucky, and Clint. Tony and Pepper watched in amusement. “They’re discussing the last mission I went on with Clint and Sam,” Steve said, rolling his eyes. 

“Oh, has Bucky heard about what you did?” Natasha asked evenly. Darcy and Jane traded glances, well aware of Steve’s penchant for jumping out of airplanes without a parachute. 

Steve jutted his jaw out stubbornly. “It was necessary for the success of the mission.” Nat pursed her lips but said nothing, dealing the cards. 

A few minutes later, Bucky’s voice sounded from across the room. “He did  _ what?!” _

Steve cringed, fumbling as a bit of his drink spilled out of his mouth. “Um. Excuse me, ladies, I have to-” He walked quickly out of the room’s side door. 

Moments later, Bucky appeared at the bar, eyes narrowed. “Where’d he go?” Jane and Darcy pointed in different directions. Bucky leveled them both with an unamused glare and stomped off in the direction they hadn’t pointed. 

“Godspeed, Captain,” Darcy said with amusement, and turned back to the card game.  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Swedish Rummy is my favorite card game of all time (and also the only actual one I can play), but I have never once found a single other person outside of my family who knows what it is.


	10. Chapter 10

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wrote another chapter this morning, so you guys get an early update to make up for this week! 
> 
> This is the first time I've written an entire pack + Avengers scene.. It was a shit ton of characters to juggle but I had SUCH a great time with it.

“YEAH BITCH, PAY UP!” 

Darcy jolted in surprise, staring forlornly at her muffin, now smashed on her kitchen floor. She sighed and turned towards the noise, muffin lost but not forgotten.  

Erica fell through the front door moments later, grinning widely as she twirled an arrow between her fingers. Clint followed her with an expression that was quickly approaching a sulk. Darcy sighed. “Do I want to know?” 

“Probably not,” Boyd said from the doorway. 

“I bet Hawkass here that I could grab his arrow right out of the air,” Erica crowed. “And I  _ did. _ Three times!” 

“I feel like I got played,” Clint said unhappily. 

“Quit using my friends as target practice,” Darcy scolded. 

Natasha slipped around Boyd and into the apartment. “You were warned,” she told Clint, unaffected by his offended huff. “They have excellent reflexes, I told you that.” 

“Okay, but ‘excellent reflexes’ doesn’t mean ‘actual ninjas,’ Tash.” Clint set his bow on the island in front of Darcy and noticed the muffin on the floor. “Hey, a muffin!” Darcy watched in dismay as he picked it up from the floor and took a bite. 

“Heathen,” Darcy accused. Clint shrugged, mouth full. 

Laura blew through the open door, dressed in only a towel. “Erica, I need to borrow that suit you have,” she said on her way past them. Clint blinked a little at all the skin on display, but then returned to Darcy’s muffin. He’d adjusted pretty well to the strange behaviors of werewolves. 

“Which one?” Erica called. “The one that makes you look like a stripper, or the one that puts the fear of God into everyone who crosses your path?” 

“The second one. It’s not that kind of case, unfortunately,” Laura said from Erica and Boyd’s room. Erica slid off the counter to go help. Natasha followed, curious. “Darce, get Lydia down here! I need my hair to look perfect today!” 

Boyd, who’d sleepily started to make a fresh pot of coffee, handed Darcy her phone. She shot off a text to Lydia just as Steve stepped through the open door of the apartment, followed by Bucky. “It’s too early for this many people,” Darcy complained. She aimed a kick at Clint, who had finished off her muffin. “Especially the ones who eat my breakfast.” 

“Finders keepers,” Clint said defensively, rubbing at his thigh. 

“It was on the floor!” 

Steve wrinkled his nose at Clint as he set his sketchbook on the table and leaned against the counter beside Darcy. Bucky stared around the apartment, tracking the flow of pack and Avengers alike. 

“Laura, you’re going to have to learn to do your own hair eventually,” Lydia said irritably. She stalked through the den with Allison on her heels, Lydia somehow already put together despite the early hour. Boyd handed Lydia a mug of coffee as she passed. Allison waved hers off and instead went to crawl into Darcy’s bed. 

“I don’t have to be at the store until eleven,” Boyd told Darcy. “I’m going back to sleep.” Boyd stumbled off towards Darcy’s room and collapsed on her bed. Allison shifted over helpfully to make room. 

Natasha appeared in the doorway of the other bedroom and blinked at Clint. He nodded like that meant something and followed her into the room, taking the entire pot of coffee with him. Darcy decided to ignore that entire exchange and turned towards Steve and Bucky. “You’re here early,” she commented. 

“Derek and I are going to get coffee,” Steve explained. “And I’m sitting in on a couple of his classes today.” 

“What about you?” Darcy asked Bucky. She kicked her feet on the stool, ignoring the muffled swearing coming from Erica’s room. “Do you have a blossoming bromance with my brother, too?” Steve rolled his eyes at her. 

“It was this or the VA with Sam,” Bucky said, disgruntled. 

Steve elbowed him. “You can’t hide in the tower forever, Buck.” 

“Aspiring Rapunzel goals aside, it’s just not healthy,” Darcy agreed. Bucky shot her a narrow-eyed look. She smiled back at him, unrepentant. 

Stiles stumbled through the door just then, shirtless and sporting a fresh hickey high on his neck. “Coffee,” he moaned. Darcy pointed towards the bedroom and watched him change direction. The phases of the moon tattooed down Stiles’s spine glowed unnaturally in the morning light of the apartment. Bucky blinked after him, a little wide-eyed. 

Derek came in only seconds later, yawning. Darcy stared judgmentally at him. “Your shirt is buttoned wrong.” 

“Dammit, Stiles,” Derek swore, fumbling with the button-up. Stiles strolled back into the kitchen, coffee pot successfully stolen from Clint, and leered playfully at Derek. 

Bucky cocked his head and angled so he could see the apartment doorway better. Darcy followed his gaze just in time to see Jane and Thor walk in. “You said there was a muffin emergency?” Jane questioned. She handed Darcy a bag from the coffee shop down the street. Darcy took it, delighted

“I love you the most,” she declared, fishing the muffin out of the bag. Thor made a wounded noise. 

“Hey losers, we brought coffee,” Jackson announced as they arrived. Danny pinched his boyfriend in the side, rolling his eyes. Jackson set the tray of coffee down and jostled past Stiles, his own version of showing affection. 

Laura stalked out of the bedroom, dressed to kill in a dark navy suit and red heels that put her over six feet tall. Her hair was braided expertly back, highlighting her cheekbones and wolf’s grin. Darcy whistled. “Damn, Laura.”

Laura grinned. “Your superspies get the credit. Apparently Robin Hood here is a genius with makeup.” 

“Is it  _ that  _ hard to remember ‘Hawkeye?’” Clint asked, cranky. “I’m an expert marksman, one of the best in the world, and not just with a bow!” Everyone stared back at him, silent. “Unbelievable,” he muttered. 

“You are also very skilled with face paints, Barton,” Thor told him, admiring Laura’s makeup. 

Clint brightened a little. “Thanks, man. It’s all about framing the face, see-” He went on with an enthusiastic explanation, Thor nodding along with interest. 

“Makeup?” Darcy asked as Natasha jumped fluidly onto the counter beside Jane. She waved to Lydia as the banshee left for work. 

“He’s better at it than I am.” She shrugged. “It’s good for undercover missions.” 

Jane listened attentively to Clint’s spiel. “Huh. I didn’t know half of this stuff.” She took out a pen and jotted a few notes down in the margins of physics equations so complicated it made Darcy’s head hurt. 

Darcy accepted the coffee from Danny and threw her balled-up wrapper at Stiles. He shielded instinctively and scowled at her. “Quit drinking directly from the pot,” she ordered. 

“Yeah, Stiles, act your age,” Jackson said from the couch. 

“Or at least your shoe size,” Erica added. Jackson laughed. 

“You guys are mean,” Stiles grumbled. He tugged the pot closer, defensive. “I should have left with Naomi when I had the chance.” 

“She wouldn’t take you with her,” Darcy scoffed. Naomi had left the previous day, off on her own private mission.

Stiles huffed. “She’s gotta get over the tree thing eventually.” 

“Tree thing?” Steve asked, confused. 

“Don’t bother asking,” Erica said. “They won’t explain anything about Naomi, or the time they spent with her in Oregon.” 

“It just makes us want to know more,” Laura told the sparks. They both smiled blandly back at her. “Ugh. You’re the worst.” She snatched a coffee from the tray and stalked off. “I have to get to court. With any luck, I’ll make the defense attorney cry again today.” 

“It does really undermine their argument,” Derek told Steve as his sister left. 

“Does she always make the opposing council cry?” Natasha asked. “I think I would like to see that.” 

Darcy made a wiggling motion with her hand. “Laura goes extra hard when it’s a case against abusers. It’s really a beautiful thing to watch.” 

“I would definitely like to see that,” Natasha amended. “Change of plans, Barton.” 

“No arguments here,” Clint said. “Let’s go watch the she-wolf verbally eviscerate someone.” He rubbed his hands together gleefully. 

Jane snorted a laugh as she watched them leave. “That does sound like fun.” Thor frowned at her. Jane patted his arm. “I know, I know. We already have plans.” She turned to Darcy. “You’ve got the day off. Thor has a whole day planned for the two of us, apparently.” 

“I have been studying Midgardian courting rituals,” Thor explained. “With the help of my lightning sister.” He high-fived Darcy, grinning widely. Jane squinted suspiciously at Darcy. “Come, my love. We have little time to prepare for the dance.” 

“The  _ dance?” _ Jane squawked. “What the hell are you- Darcy, what’d you tell him?” She glared accusingly at Darcy as Thor guided her out of the apartment. 

“Have fun, Janie!” Darcy waved back. “Consider this the prom you never got.” 

“Traitor!” Jane hissed back before disappearing into the hall. 

Erica grinned. “What was that all about?” 

Darcy shrugged. “Jane told me she never had a serious boyfriend,” she explained. “No one ever took her out on dates, she never went to a school dance, or any of the fun dating things people do. Thor and I have been watching a lot of ‘90s romcoms for ideas.” 

“She’s going to murder you,” Stiles said thoughtfully. “Kill you dead.” 

“Oh, please. She’s got over six feet of adoring Norse God wooing her,” Erica said dismissively. “She’ll get over it.” 

“Plus, they're going paintballing afterwards,” Darcy added. “And the dance is actually just a ballroom reserved for them. Thor’s got moves, apparently.” She eyed Bucky, who’d been quietly watching the conversation. “A little birdie told me you liked to dance, once upon a time.” 

“You askin’, doll?” Bucky asked casually. He leaned back against the counter, a smile playing at the corners of his mouth. 

“Maybe I am,” Darcy said, biting back a grin. 

Derek shook his head. “Don’t do it,” he warned. “She’s a terrible dancer. Two left feet and the attention span of a goldfish.” Stiles barked a laugh. Derek raised a brow at him. “I don’t know why you’re laughing, you’re even worse than she is.” Stiles made a noise of protest. 

“You’d both better get your shit together,” Erica said threateningly. “I won’t have you idiots stepping all over people’s toes at my wedding.” Erica pointed at Bucky. “Get to work. She’s your responsibility, now.” She turned, winked at Darcy, and flounced away towards her bedroom. 

“We’d better go,” Derek said, checking his watch. “My first class is in an hour.” 

Steve nodded. “Ready, Buck?” 

Darcy noticed Bucky’s hesitation and couldn’t stop herself from offering, “The rest of us are hanging out here for a while. If you want to stay. With us. All of us. The pack, I mean.” She stopped before she could make it any worse, silently praying for a meteor strike or something equally devastating to just _ kill her now. _ Danny was barely stifling his laughter next to Jackson on the couch. 

Some of the tension left Bucky’s shoulders, though, and he nodded. “Yeah. I’d rather stay here.” Steve looked uncertain. “I don’t need a babysitter, Steve,” Bucky gritted out. 

Darcy decided to intervene before Steve could open his mouth and make things worse. “I’m supposed to Skype my dads later,” she said. “They want to meet Bucky, anyway, ever since he helped me in Romania.” 

“Okay,” Steve said eventually. Bucky’s expression tightened further. Steve glanced at his friend and finally stepped back. “I’ll see you later, then.” Bucky nodded in response but stayed silent as Derek and Steve left. 

Stiles looked between Darcy and Bucky and visibly decided to stay out of it. He ambled over to the couch, collapsing across Jackson and Danny. “Pick a different channel,” he demanded. “I hate this show.” 

“Ugh, fuck off Stilinski,” Jackson complained, shoving at Stiles’s legs across his lap. “You smell like sex.” 

“Yeah, I do,” Stiles said smugly. He shielded absently against the next half-hearted shove. 

“I hate you.” Jackson wrinkled his nose but stopped trying to actively remove the spark draped across his lap. Danny just sighed, long-suffering, and changed the channel.

Bucky was back to studying the apartment, arms crossed and expression neutral. He caught Darcy watching him. “Nice place,” he said. 

“Thanks. My family owns it, so.” She shrugged. 

“They all live here?” He asked, gently straightening the forever-crooked picture on the wall. The pack beamed out of the photo, taken at Maya and Sophia’s wedding. 

“Everyone that’s in New York, yeah,” Darcy told him. “We’re all in the building. It’s easier for the pack when we’re all close together.” She glanced over as Allison shuffled out of Darcy’s bedroom, rubbing her eyes and carrying Darcy’s laptop. 

“Dad says to check your email,” Allison told her, handing it off and searching through the remaining coffee cups for one she liked.  

Darcy frowned and opened her computer, skimming through the wide variety of emails. “Looks like I got a few late last night from Maya and another couple of contacts on the east coast,” Darcy said as she skimmed through their contents. Allison must have seen her expression shift, or noticed Bucky’s attention snap to Darcy, because she came around the kitchen island to read over Darcy’s shoulder. 

“Ritualistic killings?” Allison read aloud. Bucky’s face did something weird, like he wasn’t sure how to react to this news so early in the morning. 

Stiles sat up from the couch, alarmed. “What kind of ritualistic killings?” 

“What do you mean ‘what kind?’” Danny asked as Stiles scrambled over the back of the couch to join them. “How many kinds are there?” 

“More than you want to know,” Boyd said from the doorway of Darcy’s bedroom. “Trust me.” 

“Bodies found in Delaware,” Stiles read. “Two so far.” 

“Cops are thinking it’s a cult due to the nature of the murders,” Darcy shared. She moved to the next report. “Black candles placed in a pentagram around the victim, see? Look at the crime scene photos.” Darcy pointed to the pattern of candles above the altar. 

“Blood drained into bowls made out of rowan wood,” Stiles noted grimly. He and Boyd shared a knowing look. Darcy frowned- rowan wood was a strong, natural magical conduit. 

“You’re thinking witches?” Allison asked, concerned. 

Danny looked between the group huddled together over the laptop. “We haven’t dealt with witches before.” 

“They mostly keep to themselves,” Boyd informed him. “Witches aren’t nearly as powerful as sparks. I doubt any of them would ever want to face one.” 

“Stiles, look.” Darcy angled the laptop so Stiles could see the photo enlarged on her screen. “Runes.” 

Stiles leaned in, intently focused on the sigils. “I’ve never seen some of these before, not put together like this.” He grabbed a notepad off the fridge and started copying them down. “What the hell would these even do?” 

Allison showed Darcy her phone. “Dad and Peter are flying into Bowers this afternoon to check it out.” 

Darcy stood. “Tell him I’ll meet them there.” Allison followed her into Darcy’s room, texting Chris back. 

“I’d go with you, but Lydia is traveling for work. I don’t want her going alone, not with the hunters that frequent the places she’s scheduled to visit.” Allison shifted, uncertain. “I can see if they’ll reschedule, maybe?” 

“No way,” Darcy argued. “That is a NASA-funded trip to lecture at colleges around the country. Lydia is  _ not  _ missing it. I’ve got this, Alli. Dad and Chris will be there.” 

“So will I,” Bucky said from the doorway. 

Darcy tugged her go-bag from the back of her closet and stared at him. “What?” 

“I’m coming, too,” Bucky repeated. “You need someone to watch your back. I have the next few days free. I’m coming with you.” 

“Free to fight witches?” Darcy asked skeptically. 

“And meet your dads.” Bucky quirked a smile at her. “Surely they won’t say no to another person watching your back.” 

“They won’t,” Allison said before Darcy could argue. “And I’d feel much better if you were there, too.” Darcy shot her a dark look. 

“I’ll be fine,” she argued half-heartedly. 

Bucky raised a judgmental brow at her. “History says otherwise.” He sighed when she just glared at him. “C’mon, doll. It’ll get me out of Steve’s hair for a few days. He’s been hovering, and it’s drivin’ me crazy.” 

“Do it for him, Darce,” Allison said, nodding. 

Darcy sighed and relented. “Fine. But!” She held up a hand. “You do what I say, when I say. If this is a coven of witches gone bad, it could be  _ very  _ dangerous.” 

Bucky held up his hands. “You’re the boss,” he promised. 

“Damn right I am,” Darcy muttered. She stalked out of the room and decided to make a stop on the way downstairs. “Tell Laura I borrowed the Camaro,” she said with a grin. “We’ll be in touch!” Bucky followed her out the door as the others shouted after her in protest. 

“Laura’s going to kill us,” Stiles moaned as the door slammed behind her. 


	11. Chapter 11

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I didn't forget about the youngest Hale, I swear!

Darcy threw herself out of the car and dashed across the hotel parking lot, leaving Bucky to climb out much more sedately. Cora met her halfway and nearly suffocated Darcy in a hug. 

“Jesus, it’s been too long,” Darcy told her younger sister. “Also, fuck off, why are you so tall?” 

“Maybe you’re just shrinking,” Cora teased. She pulled back to grin down at Darcy, looking eerily similar to Laura. Cora was the mischief to Laura’s mayhem, and two years out of high school didn’t necessarily mean she still wasn’t the biggest troublemaker in the family. 

“How’s hunting with Maya going?” Darcy asked, ignoring the shrinking comment. 

Cora sighed. “Good. Mom’s still pushing for college, though.” 

Peter sauntered over, matching Cora’s attitude of restrained tolerance. “Your mother only wants what’s best for you.” Darcy hugged him tightly, pressing her face into his chest. 

“Maybe she should listen when I tell her I already know what’s best for me,” Cora retorted. 

“Not this again,” Chris sighed from somewhere behind them. Darcy pulled away from Peter and hugged him, too. 

Cora poked Darcy in the side after a few seconds. “Hey, Darce, who’s the pretty boy?” 

Darcy choked on a laugh when she saw Bucky’s face, but managed to hold it together enough to say, “This is Bucky. He’s, uh-” 

“Oh,” Cora said gleefully.  “This is  _ Bucky.” _ Darcy elbowed her, cursing little sisters and werewolves alike when Cora barely flinched. 

“Romania Bucky?” Peter asked, eyes sharp. 

Bucky held out his hand. “It’s nice to meet you,” he said solemnly.  

Chris shook his hand when Peter only stared at him in suspicion. “You, too. We wanted to thank you, for all you did to help the girls last year.” He stepped on Peter’s foot as a subtle reminder. 

“It was no trouble,” Bucky said, shrugging uncomfortably. 

Darcy intervened before things could get worse. “He offered to come along and help.” 

“Who willingly agrees to come fight witches?” Cora asked, already bored. “You must have lost your mind.” Darcy just barely resisted the urge to slap her hand over Cora’s mouth. She could only stare at Bucky, somewhat horrified. 

“Somethin’ like that,” he said eventually. Bucky’s eyes flickered to Darcy and then back to Chris and Peter. “She tends to find trouble,” he said with a nod in Darcy’s direction. “Figured I could watch her back, like she had mine.” 

Darcy warred between offense and gratitude. Peter spoke before she could, loosening his posture in a signal of acceptance. “I like him,” Peter decided. “Smart and pretty.” Darcy groaned and looked to Chris for help. 

“I’ve got a couple rooms reserved,” Chris said, trying to hide his amusement.  “There’s a double bed and a single bed, so the girls can stay with us-” 

“Oh, no we’re not,” Cora interrupted. “Not a chance in hell.” Darcy shook her head in agreement. “You two are the worst, and I’m not smelling what my uncle’s getting up to in the middle of the night.” 

“You two take the single,” Darcy said. “We can make two double beds work just fine.” She backed up a few steps towards Bucky to make her point. Cora nodded and followed. 

“I can-” Bucky cut off when Darcy elbowed him in the stomach. 

“You can _ not,” _ she hissed at him. “They’re all over each other, all the time. No one deserves to be locked in a room with them.” 

“We are not-” Chris broke off at the wolf’s grin on Peter’s face, the tips of his ears turning red. “Fine. If that’s fine with you, we can do it that way.” Bucky nodded hesitantly. 

“Great, it’s decided.” Cora clapped her hands and then reached forward to snatch the room key from Chris’s hand. “We’ll get settled.” 

Darcy and Bucky followed her down the hallway of the first floor, go-bags over their shoulders. She shouldn’t have been surprised that Bucky kept multiple go-bags stashed all over the city, but his numerous backups only made her heart hurt. They’d stopped for two on the way out of town, the second containing an arsenal of weapons. 

Cora tossed her bag on the bed closest to the door. “Darcy and I will take this bed. Unless...” She trailed off, eyeing them with a smirk. 

“No,” Darcy said hurriedly before Bucky could read into Cora’s suggestive pause. “This will work.” 

“Trade beds,” Bucky said, eyeing the distance to the door from each bed. 

Cora bared her teeth at him in a smile. “No way. We’re on a hunt, dude, which means a ‘wolf on the door at all times.” 

Bucky’s brow furrowed. “I don’t...” 

“My family can shift into full wolves,” Darcy explained. “When we’re on a hunt, the werewolves prefer to be shifted, so they can smell and hear better. We’ll have more warning if something comes after us.” 

“You always assume you’re gonna get jumped in the middle of the night?” Bucky asked, like  _ he  _ wasn’t the most paranoid human in the  _ entire world.  _

“We’ve been attacked in the middle of the night too many times,” Cora added. “Plus, we’re pretty big when shifted. Faster, too.” 

“A bigger threat,” Bucky surmised. He studied Cora’s slender frame with something akin to polite skepticism. 

“You’ll see,” Cora said, unconcerned. “Thank Darcy. Mom’s the only one that could shift fully, before.” 

Bucky looked between the two women. “Before?” 

“There was a pack of Alpha werewolves intent on killing everyone in my family,” Darcy said casually as she shuffled through her bag, looking for her pile of notes. “They kidnapped and tortured Erica and Boyd at one point. And Isaac, before he was ours.” Bucky didn’t seem to know what to do with this information. 

“Darcy did some insane magic that let us shift,” Cora added. “The whole pack can, thanks to her.” Cora bumped her elbow gently against Darcy’s side with a smile. “We’re the only pack in the world that can do that.” 

“The nemeton did most of the work,” Darcy muttered, face hot. 

Bucky seemed to give up understanding a word they were saying and tossed his bags onto the other bed. “Now what?” He asked, looking between them. “Never been on a witch hunt before.” 

A knock on the adjoining door interrupted Darcy before she could answer. She swung it open to reveal Peter, who pushed past her to assess their room. Chris stood at the table in his and Peter’s room, spreading open a map of the city. Darcy smiled at the familiar sight and joined him. 

“There’s a local coven,” Chris told Darcy as they studied the map. Bucky seemed to be doing his own thorough search of the rooms behind them, but Darcy could tell he was also listening. “They denied any knowledge of the murders when I reached out, but they’re willing to meet with us to share information.” 

“They don’t think that the coven can be involved in the hunt, do they?” Darcy asked, concerned. Besides the fact that one of them could be involved, or the killer, magic users with no hunting experience would be a major hindrance. 

“No, I already shot that offer down,” Chris said. “I wasn’t stupid enough to accept a random magic user’s help with something like this.” 

“Not when we have our very own spark,” Peter agreed. He pressed a kiss to Darcy’s hair as he passed behind them. 

“How are you expecting this to go?” Chris asked Darcy, taking a seat. “The meeting?” 

Darcy hummed in thought, drumming her fingers on the table. “Depends on them, I guess.” 

“Surely they wouldn’t be stupid enough to attack you,” Cora said, throwing herself onto the bed. “One spark against the coven wouldn’t be much of a match, would it?” 

“No,” Darcy said in agreement. She sat in the other chair, watching Bucky as he determined lines of sight from each window. “Witches don’t use power the way sparks do. They don’t have much at all, really. Maybe enough in each witch to power a small rune, but not for very long.” 

“Why’s that?” Peter asked. 

“Sparks have raw power,” Darcy explained. “Druids get their power from the earth’s magic. Witches, though, they don’t have a source for their power. They wring magic from themselves, using their own energy or even life to fuel runes or spells.” She’d done a lot of research on the drive down, making Bucky read passages from aloud from her bestiary.  

“Or blood magic,” Bucky mumbled, like he wasn't sure he was allowed to contribute. 

Darcy resisted the urge to smile. “Yes. Blood magic is how they can fuel bigger runes or spells, but it’s very dangerous. A link to their own life like that can result in a horribly painful death. The witch would burn from the inside out if they tried to perform a spell that needed more energy than they had to give.” 

“That means that these sacrifices...” Cora trailed off, sitting up to stare at Darcy with a frown. 

Darcy nodded. “They’re likely using the victims’ blood to power a spell.” 

“Using the victim’s life instead of theirs,” Chris mused. “How do they manage that?” 

“I’m not sure, but the spell would have to be performed at the time of the sacrifice. Witches have no way to hold power like that, especially not from a life forcibly taken.” 

“So, they’re using other people’s lives to power a spell,” Chris summarized. 

“Question is, what kind of spell?” Peter wondered. 

Darcy glanced around the room. “Why don’t we go find out?” 

~*~ 

“So, none of you know why a witch would kill someone this way,” Darcy reiterated to the witches seated at the large table in the head witch’s home. Bucky lingered by the doorway, watching their faces as Darcy discussed the recent murders.  

After a brief discussion turned argument, Peter and Chris agreed to let the three of them go alone to meet with the witches. Darcy wanted at least part of the group to remain unseen by the coven. They would scour the town for clues in the meantime.  

Cora cocked her head beside Darcy, sprawled out in one of the chairs with a disarming air of boredom. Darcy knew her little sister would be marking every uptick in the witches’ pulses, every odd movement or sound that might give them away. 

“No.” The head witch of the coven, Sara, swallowed at the sight of the crime scene photo and looked away. “None of us would ever practice dark magic such as this. Taking a life is-” She broke off and shivered. 

“The exact opposite of what we practice,” another witch, a slender man of about thirty, rested his hand on Sara’s to comfort her as he spoke. He turned to Darcy. “Our magic, what little we have, stems from our belief in celebrating life. None of us would do something as horrible as this.” 

“And I would know,” Sara said firmly. “I would know if someone in my coven did this. Dark magic leaves a stain. We’d all feel it.” 

“Can you think of why a witch would perform this sacrifice?” Darcy asked. “These runes, tied together around the body- I've never seen them before, not woven into one piece.” Sure she’d experimented some with wards, figured out how to connect two or three runes to strengthen them, but never something with this detail. It was dangerous, to create a line of runes the way the killer had done. One incorrectly marked sigil, one rune not built with confidence, and the magic could twist the entire spell around with horrific results. 

“It’s a spell,” Sara said. “We create our spells out of runes, pieced together to accomplish a single goal.” 

“It’s incredibly intricate,” Darcy pointed out. “A spell like this, surely it was created by an expert.” 

“May I see the spell?” Darcy looked over at the man who’d spoken. He sat across from Sara, a seat down from Cora, and didn’t seem phased by the she-wolf lounging a foot away from him. Darcy handed him the photo, a zoomed-in snapshot of the runes drawn around the body. The man smiled at her; Darcy blinked a little at the appealing way it lit up his face. Bucky shifted somewhere behind her. “Thanks. I’m Tai, by the way. Tai Chen.”

Sara smiled at him. “Tai is our resident rune expert.” 

Tai leaned over the photo, tapping at the line of runes. “Spells are finicky, as I’m sure you can imagine. Witches spend years and years learning the rules of magic so we don’t end up burning through our own life by accident.”

“So you might develop your own preferences, patterns,” Cora guessed. Tai nodded at her. 

“Exactly. We all have our own ways of designing spells,” he explained. “Like a magic fingerprint, if you will.” 

Darcy nodded in understanding. “Do you recognize anything in the spell? Anything familiar?” 

Tai frowned at the photo. “No, I don’t think so. Whoever wrote this spell, they did it in a way I’ve never personally seen before.” He glanced up at Darcy’s concerned frown. “But that’s not entirely surprising, if this is dark magic.” 

“They have their own way of writing spells,” Sara said, her lip curling in disgust. 

“Curses,” another witch corrected. Darcy looked at the brown-skinned woman as she peered over Tai’s shoulder. “It’s a curse, created by a witch willing to do whatever it takes to achieve their goal.” 

“Technicalities,” Tai argued. “It’s a collection of runes combined for one task. That’s still a spell, no matter the intention.” 

“Intentions have everything to do with it,” the woman retorted. “It’s a curse.” 

“You’ll have to forgive us,” Sara said with a thin smile. “Not everyone agrees on the little details.” 

Darcy shrugged. “Magic is what it is, no matter what we try to make it.” She stood and accepted the photo back from Tai. “Thank you, for your help. I’ll leave my cell number, if that’s okay? In case one of you thinks of or sees something.” 

“Of course,” Sara said smoothly. “We’ll be sure to contact you immediately if such a thing happens.” She rose, gesturing gracefully towards the doorway. “I’ll walk you out.” 

“So,” Cora said when the door closed behind them. “Involved?” Darcy shook her head. “Yeah, I didn’t think so, either.”  

“Did you see anything, Bucky?” Darcy craned her neck back to blink up at his wary face. 

Bucky tugged gently on her braid. “No. Some internal discontent, but nothing stood out.” 

“So we’ve got nothing?” Cora confirmed.  

Darcy sighed. “We’ve got nothing.” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Fun fact: I almost wrote a Pacific Rim crossover instead of this. I had both concepts outlined, but this ‘verse won out. Still might, someday.


	12. Chapter 12

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sexual tensiooooon. (And a little plot, but mostly sexual tensiooooon).

“I knew it,” Darcy hissed two days later. Bucky shot her a look, warning her to stay quiet. “Relax, no one’s on the property.” 

“You don’t know that,” he said, his voice a low rumble. Bucky peered out into the hallway, on guard and wary. 

Darcy wiggled her fingers at him, her magic winding around them with a bright, cheerful glow. “I do, actually. Place is warded. I’ll know the second someone steps foot inside the house.” 

“And you’re so sure no one could get around you?” Bucky seemed skeptical. She didn’t take it personally. Much. 

“If it’s breathing and walks inside, I’ll know,” she said instead of snapping at him. 

“If we’re caught-” 

“We won’t be caught, Barnes,” Darcy said, impatient now. “Besides, what’s a little B&E? I think we’re both well past concerns about misdemeanors.” Bucky rolled his eyes and didn’t answer. Darcy returned to her task: studying the room of the latest victim. They’d snuck into his house- a crime scene now, as this was where the man had been killed. 

More importantly, the man had been a druid. 

“It’s different,” Darcy murmured as she studied the spell around the horrifically large bloodstains on the floor. “The runes are different here, see?” 

Bucky crouched by the spell to examine it. “Why would they change it now?” 

“The others, they weren’t magic users,” Darcy said. She took a photo of the spell and forwarded it to the group text with Lydia and Stiles. “I bet the killer had to make a few alterations to handle a druid. Even if he wasn’t a very powerful one.” 

“How can you tell?” Bucky asked, peering up at her. 

Darcy looked down, met his bright gaze, and quickly looked away again. She cleared her throat and inched to the side under the guise of taking another close-up photo of the runes. “It’s a spark thing, I guess. I can feel the ley lines underneath the house, and traces of magic used by the druid around the house. Like that, see?” She pointed to the collection of house plants in the corner of the living room, a thriving collection of varied plants. “Druids have earth magic. This druid used what little power he had to make his plants healthy, his garden thrive, that sort of thing. It left a little trace that hasn’t faded yet.” Darcy smiled sadly. 

Her phone buzzed, drawing her attention. “Oh.” 

“Oh?” Bucky stood and approached, leaning over her shoulder to read the text. 

“Lydia and Stiles think they figured out what the runes mean,” Darcy explained absently as she read through the notes they’d sent her. “It’s some sort of containment spell.” She pointed to the first few runes at their feet, set in a half-circle around the place the body had been. “The start of it is to trap the victim, to keep them from escaping. Then,” she moved her hand along the first half of the spell, “the spell starts to drain the life of the victim.” 

“I thought you said witches couldn’t hold onto power like that,” Bucky said in her ear. Darcy felt the heat of his body as he stepped even closer, bumping up against her back. She swallowed hard and tried to focus. 

“They can’t,” she said quietly. “They don’t have the capability to hold onto so much magic or power. Any sort of magic they draw away has to be used immediately, funneled directly into another spell. That’s why the second part of this spell directs all of the power from the victims’ life into some sort of containment.” 

“Containment?” Bucky shifted even closer. “You mean to store the magic somewhere?”

Dread pooled in Darcy’s stomach. “I think so. Which means that whoever this is, they’re draining magic and storing it for another spell- something big. Something  _ huge, _ if they need this much power.” 

“Can they just store the magic in anything?” Bucky asked. 

“I’m not sure,” Darcy murmured. Her head snapped up when the wards flared in warning. “Someone’s coming.” She looked around, searching for somewhere to hide. 

Bucky swore from the window. “Cops’r back,” he told her. “We got twenty seconds, no more.” 

Darcy heard the front steps creak as the police officers walked up to the front door. “Fuck,” she whispered, heart pounding. “Why are they back?” Bucky didn’t answer, just yanked a nearby door open and grabbed her. Darcy found herself blinking in the sudden dark, crammed into a tiny hall closet with Bucky. 

Darcy stood frozen, her nose nearly pressed to Bucky’s chest in the tight space. The front door swung open. Footsteps sounded down the hall- two sets. Bucky shifted, ready to react at the slightest signal. 

“Are you  _ sure  _ you left it here?” An older male voice sounded from just outside the closet door. 

A heavy sigh. “I swear, I had it here last. Sarge is gonna  _ kill _ me if I lose anything else.” A younger voice, also male. 

“Didn’t you puke your guts up this morning in a bathroom upstairs?” The older cop asked. 

A pause, and then a sheepish, “Yeah.” Their voices faded as the two of them walked up to the second level. 

Darcy tried to wriggle free to get some breathing room, but Bucky clamped a hand down on her arm to keep her still. He pressed his right hip against her stomach, pinning her to the wall. Darcy scowled in protest but cooperated, knowing that now was not their chance to escape. 

She could hear the cops walking around upstairs. “So,” Darcy whispered. “Is that a gun in your pocket or are you just happy to see me?” 

Bucky stared incredulously down at her. “Really? Now?” He shook his head, glancing at the crack in the door as the stairs creaked. “Why are you like this?” Darcy opened her mouth to answer. “Shhh!” Bucky said over her. “Stop _ talking,  _ Jesus.”  

“Keep sweet talking and this could go a whole new direction,” Darcy muttered back. 

Bucky huffed in reluctant amusement, looking down at her. His gaze caught on hers, then dropped to her mouth. Darcy swore she could hear her heartbeat pounding in her ears. She rolled her bottom lip in between her teeth and shivered at the intensity in Bucky’s eyes. Absently, she was aware of the front door opening and then closing again.

He tucked a strand of hair behind her ears, expression softening. Darcy’s hands flexed where they rested on his chest, pressing into the warmth of him beneath his shirt.  

Bucky shifted, winding his metal arm around her hips. His other hand came up to her face, thumb gently pressing against her bottom lip. Darcy inhaled sharply, heat pooling low in her belly as he leaned closer. 

The closet door swung open. Darcy startled badly, turning to see Cora stare at the two of them with an unimpressed expression. Darcy cleared her throat and, with a brief glance at Bucky’s carefully neutral expression, slid out of the tight space. 

“What were you two doing in there?” Cora asked, looking between them. 

“Not each other, unfortunately,” Darcy muttered. 

Behind her, she heard Bucky run into the closet door with a muffled curse. Cora cackled and followed Darcy out the back door. “Close call, huh?” Cora asked with a smirk as Bucky slipped out the back door. Darcy ducked underneath the crime scene tape and pretended not to hear. 

Cora led them back to the Camaro, parked two streets away. Darcy slid into the driver’s seat before Cora could, carefully not meeting Bucky’s eyes in the mirror as he sat in the back. She headed back towards the hotel, glancing over when Cora's phone rang. 

"It's Chris," Cora told them. She answered the phone. "Yeah?" 

Darcy stopped at a red light, anxiety rising the longer Chris spoke. "Shit," Cora said suddenly.  _ “Shit.” _ She looked around, then pointed right with an urgency that had Darcy concerned even as she obeyed. "Sara's place, floor it," Cora instructed. 

The Camaro engine roared as they hurtled down the dark streets, street lights flashing over their faces in the dim car. Darcy glanced into the rearview mirror only once, catching Bucky's solemn expression.  

Cora hung up, bristling in a way that Darcy had seen all of her 'wolves do before, right before they entered a fight. "Someone took Sara's kid," Cora said tightly. 

"What?" Darcy asked, horrified. 

"Right out of her backyard," Cora reported. "He ran out after their cat and vanished." There was a beat of silence before Cora said, "He's only ten years old." 

The silence in the backseat turned from attentive to dangerous. Darcy wheeled onto Sara's street, the Camaro screeching to a stop at the edge of the property. The three of them jumped out of the car, meeting Chris halfway around the house. He jogged out of the back door to meet them. 

"Peter's on the trail already," he told Cora. The youngest Hale nodded and started stripping. Darcy was grateful that Sara's house was secluded enough that there were no neighbors around to witness Cora shifting into a large, slate-grey wolf. "He could use some help." 

Cora dashed away, covering the yard in a few strides. She disappeared into the woods a few seconds later. "We'll follow," Darcy told Chris. 

He nodded. "I'm staying here, just in case this is an attempt to get to Sara or one of the others." He looked to Bucky. "A bullet will do the trick, if it comes to that." Bucky nodded once. 

"Be safe," Darcy said, and ran after her sister. 

Bucky trailed her silently through the woods. Darcy used her spark to track Peter and Cora, knowing that despite their enormous size, they moved almost as silently as Bucky did through the undergrowth.  

Peter, shifted into a red-coated wolf that nearly came up to Darcy's elbow, slipped through the trees to join them. Bucky stuttered a little in surprise, having just barely gotten used to Cora shifting every night. Peter was much bigger than Cora- and still, Darcy couldn't wait for Bucky to see  _ Boyd _ shift. 

"Cora's ahead?" Darcy said quietly. Peter whuffed in agreement. As the better tracker, Cora would follow the trail directly and Peter would follow her. 

It wasn't long before they drew up on Cora, who was hunkered down with her ears pointed forward. She didn't react when they joined her. Darcy peered through the trees, just barely able to make out a stone altar ahead. 

Her stomach tightened when she caught sight of the dark-haired child huddled against the altar, trembling. He tucked his legs into his chest and pressed his face into his knees, too afraid to look at the man lighting black candles a few feet away. 

Darcy touched her fingertips to Cora's back. "You two circle around- our two o’clock. Cora, get the kid. Take him back to the house. Bucky and I will deal with this guy." Bucky nodded in the corner of her vision. 

The two of them remained still until Peter and Cora were in place. Darcy saw Cora slink through the trees, nearly invisible in the darkness. The moon sat three-quarters full in the sky, lighting the small area just enough that Darcy could make out the man's unfamiliar features. 

"Stay under cover," Darcy whispered. "And don't get too close." She stepped out from the tree line before Bucky could stop her. The child caught sight of her, eyes widening hopefully. 

Darcy eyed the man, noticing that his back was still turned. She put a finger to her lips, urging the boy to remain quiet, and motioned him over. He glanced back at the witch and then crawled towards her, scrambling to his feet and darting over to Darcy once he was clear. 

He crashed into her, tears on his face even as he stayed quiet. Darcy crouched down to whisper very, very softly. "It's okay, your mom sent us to help." She wiped at his tears when he tucked himself closer to her, aware that the witch had started the complicated process of writing the spell. He was still facing the other direction, but the spell wouldn't take long to finish. "My friend is going to take you home, okay?" She shushed him as Cora padded towards them, tail wagging. 

The boy trembled at the sight of her, but smiled bravely when Cora licked his hand. "Climb on, it's alright." Darcy helped him climb onto Cora's back. He clutched at her fur, wide-eyed. "Hang on tight, and Cora will take you home."  

Darcy nodded at Cora and stepped back as the wolf quickly disappeared into the trees. Peter lurked nearby, eyes glinting in the moonlight. Bucky, she knew, stood somewhere behind her, ready to pull the trigger at a moment's notice. 

She reached out with her spark and snuffed out the lit candles. The witch spun around, rage on his expression, and froze at the sight of her.

Darcy smiled at him with too many teeth to be anything but dangerous. "I was going to say something about picking on someone your own size, but let's be real. You're outclassed," she said. 

The witch looked around and seemed to realize she'd let his next victim escape. Darcy's lip curled in disgust as she stared at him. "Druids, humans, children. You really have no limits, do you?" She twitched her fingers, watched the candles topple over with satisfaction. "What could you possibly want with a little kid?"

"The younger the magic user, the more potential," the witch said. His eyes flickered down to the half-finished spell written on the altar. "All children have magic. It's just a matter of whether the world burns it out of them before they realize it's there." 

"You're willing to kill a child to take that magic away?" Darcy asked. Peter crept closer. Darcy's gaze caught on the gemstone around the witch's neck, a large opal that shimmered oddly in the filtered moonlight. "What is that?" She asked in surprise, eyes on the necklace. 

The witch wrapped his hand around it defensively. "Nothing," he sneered. _ "Sparks,"  _ he spat. "You're all greedy power whores. You don't deserve what you have, not a single drop of it!" 

"Power whore, that's a new one," Darcy commented, unfazed. "And what the hell do you need so much power for?" She asked, considering how to get the necklace away from him. She suspected that he was storing all of the power in the gemstone- opals were notorious for their magic-storing abilities. They were heavily guarded and fiercely coveted, and somehow this witch had gotten his hands on one. 

"Witches have  _ nothing," _ the man growled. "No real power, not unless you have a coven. So I found other ways, ways to  _ take  _ power and make it my own." He grinned at her, a challenge. "You can't stop me." 

"I can, actually," Darcy told him. She wondered if he was actually stupid enough to try and fight her. 

The witch shook his head, still grinning that deranged grin. "No, you can't. It's too late now. I've already passed it all on-  _ years _ worth of stolen power, from blood and life itself." 

Darcy felt a warning creep down her spine, like the shadows were closing in on them. She watched the man raise the knife in his hand and jerked in surprise when he dragged it roughly over his wrist. "What the-" She stepped forward, alarmed, and then froze in place when he began chanting. 

The Latin words seemed loud and heavy in the still night air, filling the woods with a sense of urgency. Darcy put shields around Peter and Bucky, wishing for Lydia to translate the words spewing out of the witch's mouth. 

Darcy saw the runes on the altar glow and shouted, "Stop, you idiot! You're going to kill yourself!" Blood magic was irreversible, and once the spell was started it would be impossible to stop. 

Bucky stepped out from his cover, gun raised at the witch. Peter prowled closer, growling low in his throat. 

The witch panted, yanking on the necklace until it snapped. He held the opal between his bloodied fingers. Darcy met his frenzied eyes as the spell twisted around, draining his life. 

Which was exactly his intention, Darcy realized. She stayed back, not wanting to get any closer to what was about to happen. Bucky came to a halt beside her. "Okay?" He asked lowly, eyes never leaving the witch. 

"Fine, just-" She winced when the Latin cut off with a wet gurgle as the magic started to wring the life from him. "He's performing blood magic. Even I can't stop something like this." 

"Who's it aimed at?" Bucky asked, stepping in front of her. 

"Himself." Darcy turned away, into Bucky, as the witch began to convulse. She kept her eyes on the faint ridges visible beneath Bucky's shirt, the edges of the prosthetic fused with his shoulder. "My spark is raw power. His magic can't get through mine, not even with dark magic like this." 

"It's not hurting you?" Bucky asked, glancing at her face to be sure. 

"I'm fine," Darcy assured him. "I just really don't want to see this." Sometimes, she could hardly stand all the death and pain in her world. Sometimes, it all just made her sick. 

The noises cut off behind her. Darcy heard Peter approach the body warily. She winced again at the sound of a neck snapping. Bucky lowered his gun, sliding it back into its holster. 

He ran a hand down her back, letting Darcy lean into him for a moment. She closed her eyes and breathed him in, trying to battle back the rise of emotions in her chest. Darcy tucked her face into the crook of Bucky’s neck as Cora came crashing back through the trees towards them. 

Bucky let her stay as the ‘wolves started the process of hiding the body. Darcy couldn’t dredge up the energy to go help. Chris appeared a few minutes later. He hesitated behind Bucky, eyeing Darcy in concern. “We’ve got this,” Chris told Bucky with a significant glance at his surrogate daughter. 

“C’mon, doll,” Bucky said quietly. He slid an arm over her shoulders and guided her back through the woods towards the car.

They walked in silence for a while. Finally, Darcy broke. “I’m just… sometimes I’m just so tired of all of this death, all the time.” 

“You see a lot of it,” Bucky said. 

“Days like this, they stick with you for a long time,” she said. Then she flushed, horrified. “God, Bucky, I’m sorry, of course you already know that. I’m such a fucking idiot-” 

“Hey,” he interrupted, tugging her off-balance until she stopped apologizing. “Stop it.” Darcy shook her head and kept her mouth shut. Bucky sighed after a moment of silence. “Darce. Don’t clam up. You’ve never treated me like anything but human. Don’t stop now.” 

She looked up at him, startled. “Bucky, that wasn’t  _ you. _ You were a prisoner of war, brainwashed and tortured.  _ Nothing _ they made you do is your fault.” They reached the car. Darcy slid onto the hood and caught Bucky’s hand before he could detach, walk away from the earnestness on her face. 

“Bucky.” Darcy squeezed her fingers around his. “Let me tell you a story.” Something to show him that she understood, she knew what it was to be taken and used by a power greater than yourself. 

He allowed her to pull him closer, hovering just outside of her personal space. “About?” He murmured, eyes on their hands- the metal fingers entwined oh-so-carefully with her own. 

“About where I came from,” she said quietly. Darcy held her breath until Bucky raised his eyes to her own. “About the things  _ I’ve _ done.” Bucky finally nodded, stepping closer, and Darcy started to talk. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> To recap: the witch was not someone they knew or had suspected- which isn't any more comforting, actually, because that means there are other players in this game that Darcy's just learning exists. She's feeling ten steps behind the play here, and why I am suddenly speaking in sports metaphors I don't know.
> 
> On another note, if one of you guys happens to be fluent-ish in Russian & wouldn't mind helping me out, I would really appreciate it!! Google translate is a liar & I'd like to be at least a little accurate.   
> You can message me on tumblr if so (I'm i-like-plan-m)!


	13. Chapter 13

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I just wrote five chapters in two days, so you guys get an extra update this week! Next one will be up on Friday. 
> 
> I finally worked out a final chapter count for this, but who knows if it will actually stay the same. The important thing to note is that I've got the rest of it outlined and half of it written!

“So,” Peter said, pouring an obscene amount of sugar into his coffee. “Tell us about your boy.” Chris took the sugar container from him and slid it down the table out of Peter’s reach. 

Darcy groaned and thumped her head on the table. “He’s not my boy,” she said, voice muffled into the table. 

Peter snorted. “Maybe you should tell him that,” he said, sipping from his mug. “I’m seeing a lot of heart eyes coming from that one.” 

“From you, too,” Chris teased Darcy, trapping her feet under the table when she kicked at them. 

“Ugh.” Darcy slumped down in the booth, glaring at the hotel across the street where Bucky and Cora were still asleep. Darcy had given up on sleep and rolled out of bed after the third time she’d jerked awake, heart racing from the lingering images of her dreams. 

She’d had nightmares all through the night, of the earth tearing itself apart, of monsters from unimaginable places clawing their way into her world while she stood by, helpless and afraid. Darcy wondered if the witch’s satisfaction had something to do with it- the man’s smug assurance that he’d been passing along power for years to an unknown source.

The question was who now held all of that power, and what they intended to do with it. 

Preoccupied with the lingering fear from her dream and the trepidation towards the rest of it, Darcy didn’t realize Peter was talking until she looked up and saw both men looking at her expectantly. “Sorry, what did you say?” 

The teasing mood fell a little flat, Peter’s good humor shifting to concern. “What’s got you so worried, darling?” 

“I don’t know,” Darcy sighed. She fiddled with the salt shaker on the table, scowling when it tipped over and spilled. 

Peter reached over the table and smoothed her hair back, away from her face. “You know enough that something’s got you worried.” 

“Is it about the witch?” Chris asked gently. “I know that last night didn’t exactly end well.” 

“A little,” she admitted. “But also it had a lot to do with what he said. About the stored magic he’s been handing off.” She’d destroyed the opal late last night- it was tainted now, she could feel it in the way the necklace reacted to her magic. 

“Yes, that is rather concerning,” Peter murmured. Darcy’s knee bounced beneath the table. She was filled with a restless energy despite her lack of sleep, fueled by the need to be  _ out there, _ tracking down the unknown person with nearly boundless power and questionable intentions. 

Chris laid a hand over hers when she started tapping impatiently on the table. “We’ll figure it out, Darce,” he said. “We always do.” 

“There’s just a lot at stake,” Darcy mumbled. “So many people that could get hurt.” 

“Ah, yes,” Peter said. “Including your new friends at Stark tower.” 

“They’re superheroes,” Darcy said. “I know it’s stupid to think they can’t take care of themselves, but-” 

“This is not their world,” Peter agreed. “Or at least they’re very new to it.” 

“New enough that it could get them hurt or killed.” Darcy blew out a breath. 

“How many of them are in the know?” Chris asked, leaning back into the arm Peter had thrown across the back of the booth. 

Darcy rubbed her hands over her face. “Most of ‘em. Nat is technically a supe, Steve has Fae blood, and Bucky grew up with Steve so he caught onto things pretty quickly back then. Plus, they fought in the war, apparently alongside a collection of supernaturals.” She drained half of her mug in one long draw. “Clint found me after the Ak’ma attack, so I  _ definitely  _ had to explain after that. Thor knows, obviously.” She cocked her head in thought. “I guess that’s it. That leaves Stark, Sam, Banner, and Pepper in the dark.” 

“Stark doesn’t know?” Chris asked, curious. 

Darcy shook her head. “No. Tony’s probably the most influential Avenger, and arguably one of, if not  _ the _ most influential men in the world.” 

Chris nodded in agreement. “Stark knowing could change everything.” 

“It would definitely risk the statute of secrecy,” Darcy said. “Tony’s not one to leave questions unanswered, and he’s smart enough to figure out more than he should know.” She’d spent a lot of time considering the pros and cons of revealing the world hidden within his own. But it was a huge risk, one she couldn’t take- not without knowing how he would react. “He doesn’t like surprises.” 

“Especially if it looks as though his entire team is deliberately keeping him in the dark,” Peter added. Darcy shot him a look and he shrugged. “Just saying. This could blow up in your face if he finds out.”

“Not the  _ whole _ team,” she argued weakly. “Banner’s hiding somewhere unreachable and Sam doesn’t know anything, either.” 

“But Wilson’s smart enough to put it all together eventually, too,” Chris pointed out. Darcy and Peter both eyed him. “What? I like to know who’s responsible for saving the normal human world. Sam Wilson is a force to be reckoned with.” 

“That is true,” Darcy said. “But  _ Sam _ finding out is different from Tony Stark finding out. Especially if Tony tries to get involved, which of course he will. He couldn’t leave something like that alone.” 

“You seem to know him pretty well,” Chris commented. 

Darcy shrugged. “I’ve spent some time in his lab. He likes to judge me for my choice in degrees, but he lets me play with some of his tech sometimes. I learn a lot from him. Plus, I miss working with Sophia, and keeping Jane’s pissy machines under control isn’t exactly fun.” 

“You think you can keep it all under wraps?” Peter asked. 

“I guess we’ll see,” Darcy said, dropping her chin into her hands. She smiled across the table at them. “I’ve missed you.” 

“We’ve missed you, too, darling,” Peter murmured. “It’s been entirely too quiet at home, now that half the pack has moved across the country.” 

“Not too quiet,” Chris refuted. “Scott seems to draw an alarming line of supernatural suitors.” Darcy choked on her coffee, trying not to laugh. Peter nodded, a grin forming on his face. “Isaac and Kira have to stake their claim every other week.” 

“Plus Cora’s still around, kicking up trouble at every opportunity,” Peter added, eyes flicking up behind Darcy’s shoulder. 

Cora dropped into the small space beside Darcy just then, swiping Peter’s drink out of his hands. “I’m sorry,  _ who _ almost got arrested for public indecency last month?” She shot back. 

Peter looked unrepentant. “I was on my own property,” he sniffed. 

“Since when does the bar parking lot count as Hale property?” Cora asked. Darcy stifled a laugh when Peter narrowed his eyes at his niece. Chris remained pointedly silent, eyes averted and cheeks pink.

“We were in the SUV,” he said haughtily. “The windows are tinted. No one can prove anything.” 

“Like a couple of teenagers,” Cora muttered. “You’re so embarrassing.” 

“That’s our job, love.” Peter patted Cora on the hand with a patronizing smile. She smacked him and leaned back, into Darcy. 

“Your boy is talking to Steve,” she reported. “Something about checking in because Steve’s a mother hen.” 

“He is  _ not _ my-” Darcy cut off abruptly when Bucky stepped inside the diner, gaze finding them after a quick but thorough assessment of the other patrons. “Everyone shut up,” she hissed as he approached. 

Chris hid a smile behind his own drink. Peter tried and failed to retrieve his coffee from Cora’s clutches. Darcy glanced up as Bucky came to a stop beside the table, shifting uncertainly. “I packed the car,” he told Darcy.  

“We should go,” Darcy said, glancing at her watch. She poked Cora until the ‘wolf slid out of the booth with a dramatic sigh to let Darcy free. Darcy accepted the round of hugs and paused before following Bucky towards the door. 

“If you’re serious about the hunting thing,” she told Cora. “Then I know someone you should talk to.” Maria would love Cora, Darcy was sure of it. 

Cora’s eyes shone with interest. “I am.” 

Darcy nodded. “I’ll pass your information along.” She smiled down at the youngest Hale, the strongest-willed of them all. “And maybe you can finally join us in New York. I hear Laura’s got a spare room, now that Derek’s moved in with Stiles.” 

Peter made a noise of protest, tempered by Chris’s comforting touch. “You can’t leave us yet,” Peter told Cora with a frown. 

“We miss our baby sister, Dad,” Darcy said archly. “You have to share.” Cora rolled her eyes, but Darcy recognized the pleased set of her mouth. “I’ll call you later, okay?” Cora nodded and Darcy hugged them all one last time before leaving. 

~*~ 

The ride back to New York was mostly silent. Darcy was distracted by that same restless energy, made worse by the quiet of the car. The silence started out thoughtful and then seemed to shift to pointed, but maybe she was just being paranoid. 

Bucky seemed to be merely contemplative, but the easy banter between them was lost, left somewhere behind last night when Darcy shared more of herself than she ever had before. 

And maybe she went too far, Darcy thought anxiously. Maybe she told him things that he didn’t want or need to know, and maybe it changed the way he saw her. 

Maybe she’d gotten too comfortable with him too fast. Sure, they’d spent a lot of time together between the tour of Romania and his natural gravitation towards Steve, who tended to visit the pack whenever possible. But that didn’t mean that Darcy’s small-maybe-possible-crush wasn’t clouding her vision. 

The tense moment in the closet sprang to mind. Darcy’s fingers tightened on the wheel at the memory of Bucky's thumb pressed to her mouth, of the intent in his gaze as he watched her. He was just caught up in the moment, she told herself firmly, and banished the budding hope in her chest. 

Darcy risked a glance at Bucky, who was reclined back in the passenger seat with his eyes closed. He seemed relaxed, not at all uncomfortable in the quiet car. She resisted the urge to talk, to fill the silence with something light-hearted. 

Instead, she brooded on the concerns that the last hunt had stirred up. She chewed on her bottom lip, imagination going wild with the possibilities of massive amounts of magic ending up in the wrong hands. 

By the time she turned the Camaro towards the tower, Darcy’s lip was bleeding and she felt like a live wire of stress and nerves. Bucky stirred when Darcy slowed outside the back entrance and greeted the security guard- one of Maria’s, judging by the woman’s professional nod of recognition and polite touch of magic against Darcy’s consciousness.  

Darcy waited as Bucky reached into the backseat and pulled one of his bags up front. “Take the other one with you?” He asked. Darcy nodded, hoping it wasn’t the bag full of weapons. 

“Bucky,” she blurted when he moved to exit the idling car. Darcy didn’t want to leave it like this, with the strange tension and quiet between them. Bucky paused, glancing back at her. Darcy met his bright blue eyes and faltered, abruptly losing her courage. “Thank you,” she said, dropping her eyes. “For coming to help.” 

_ ‘I’m sorry,’ _ she wanted to say.  _ ‘I’m sorry for making it weird, or scaring you off, or assuming that your willingness to help meant that you were accepting of my world, of me.’   _ Darcy said none of that. She just sat quietly, heart in her throat. 

Bucky studied her for a long moment with an unreadable expression. Finally, he nodded and gave her a smile before stepping out of the car. “No problem,” Bucky told her and closed the door. Darcy watched him walk into the tower, feeling oddly disappointed. 

Because, Darcy thought to herself as she stared blindly out of the windshield, she’d hoped for more. Alone in the glaring silence of the car, Darcy let herself look past the ever-present denial- a shield against the hurt she’d experienced before. 

She had a white-knuckled grip on the steering wheel. Her lip was bleeding again. Darcy bit down on it even harder, buckling down on the fractured hope in her heart, and finally admitted what she’d been carefully ignoring for months: 

Darcy was half in love with Bucky Barnes. And, judging by his strange reticence since last night, he just might have figured that out. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So many Feelings. Darcy finally acknowledges her own, and Bucky has just realized that his even existed.


	14. Chapter 14

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please see: the “Pining” tag. 
> 
> Also, HEYYYY I’ve reached the 200k word threshold for this 'verse!! And we ain’t done yet.

Bucky was avoiding her. 

It wasn’t glaringly obvious, not to anyone but Darcy. But she catalogued every time he slipped silently from a room she entered, the sudden lack of Bucky’s curious hovering in Jane’s lab, the way he stopped meeting her eyes in solidarity when Tony was being particularly ridiculous. 

Steve had possibly picked up on the odd tension between them. She noticed his narrowed eyes when Bucky disappeared, the thoughtful way he mentioned that no, Bucky hadn’t tagged along to hang out with the pack today, he was busy. 

Busy hiding from her, Darcy thought bitterly. She glared down at the reports on her desk, feeling both brittle and angry. She didn’t notice Jane’s concerned glances, or the distraction in the Fae’s own work as Jane worried over Darcy’s unusual silence. 

Even Tony had noticed, though he said nothing. Just kept an eye on the way the usually bright young woman seemed to have dimmed since her sudden visit with family down the coast. He caught her wandering the halls of the tower a couple nights after she’d returned, a strangely blank look on her face. 

He’d been there. Tony knew what kinds of thoughts whirled behind that careful mask, how they could make your hands shake and your throat tighten. He made a point to lure her into the lab those nights, shoving fancy tech at her until the interest and natural curiosity burned away that awful emptiness. 

Two weeks after their return, Darcy was curled up in the wide reading chair and thumbing through the stack of reports for Jane. The Fae had left hours ago to meet Thor for dinner. Darcy had declined the invitation to join them and decided to spend the rest of the night in the lab. The pack’s concern and silent support only made her feel worse.

She hadn’t told anyone what happened, about the admittance that she was way in over her head with Bucky and desperately trying to move past it. Past  _ him. _ But Darcy got caught up on what could have been, the way their banter and flirting could easily have become something more. Something great, even. 

Bucky didn’t have ulterior motives when it came to Darcy, something she’d never thought possible with her world. But that didn’t matter, because as it turned out, he didn’t have  _ any  _ motives regarding Darcy, other than not knowing how to let her down gently. 

Darcy sighed loudly, annoyed with herself. “No more moping,” she muttered. She gave in and texted Jane, needing her friend to set her straight. And to maybe get drunk with her. Darcy made a quick trip to the common area bar and returned to the lab with an armful of liquor bottles. 

Jane found her thirty minutes later, tucked underneath one of the large desks. “I gave up great shower sex to be here, so don’t say I never did anything for our friendship.” She cast an eye over the collection of booze but said nothing about it as she tucked herself beside Darcy. 

Darcy snorted a laugh. “I’m having an emotional breakdown, so obviously you were wise to join me instead.” 

“Oh, yeah, this is much better than sex,” Jane said, reaching for a bottle of wine. “You finally going to talk about what has you so upset?” She reached above them, feeling blindly along the desk for a pencil. Darcy watched as Jane violently stabbed the wine cork with the pencil and wedged it out, impressed despite herself. 

“Yes,” Darcy decided. “And when I do, I need you to be a good friend and yell at me to stop moping and get over it already.” 

“That doesn’t seem like something a good friend would do,” Jane said dubiously. “How about you tell me what’s going on, and I will yell at you if it’s warranted.” 

“Oh, it is,” Darcy said glumly. She pulled the booze closer and started talking. 

Jane listened carefully, letting Darcy ramble on about Bucky and feelings and her general idiocy. When Darcy stumbled to a stop an hour later, Jane sipped thoughtfully at the half-empty bottle of wine and said, “I think you’re being too hard on yourself.” 

“What?” Darcy blinked at her friend. “Jane, that’s not helpful.” 

“Is too,” Jane said stubbornly. “You have feelings for Bucky, which took a very long time to admit to yourself, and there’s no shame in being upset about this.” She traded out her wine for Darcy’s rum. “And the potential is definitely there, Darce. It is. I’ve seen the way he looks at you.” 

Darcy rolled her eyes. “How? He’s been hiding for two weeks.” 

“Like he doesn’t understand you, but he wants to,” Jane said. “Like he wants to hope that you could mean something to him in that way, but also like he’s afraid of hurting you.” She watched Darcy scowl uncertainly down at her hands. “And that maybe he thinks he’s not worth it, after everything he’s done.” 

“That’s bullshit,” Darcy snapped. “I’m not any better than he is.” 

Jane shook her head. “Darce, he’s got decades of blood on his hands. That changes a person in ways we could never understand.” She touched her fingers gently to Darcy’s clenched hands. “But if it helps, he wants, too.” 

“I’m not sure that it does,” Darcy said miserably. 

The lab doors slid open. Darcy and Jane peered around the desk, startled. Natasha took one look at them underneath the desk, lingering on Darcy’s expression and generally pathetic air, and then left again. Jane and Darcy blinked after her, confused at the sudden arrival and subsequent exit. 

A few minutes later, Natasha reappeared, this time carrying two bottles of the vodka she kept stashed in her freezer. Without saying a word, she unscrewed the caps and handed one of the bottles to Darcy. 

Darcy warily accepted as Natasha folded herself gracefully to the floor in front of them. Darcy took one sip and shuddered as it burned its way down her throat. “God,” Darcy choked out. “It tastes like paint thinner and bad decisions.” 

Natasha gave a sharp nod. “Builds character. Drink.” 

“Ugh.” Darcy wrinkled her nose but obeyed, familiar with the assassin’s commanding tone after months of training. She eyed Natasha. “I guess you want an explanation, huh.” 

“I want to know why you’re unhappy,” Natasha said evenly. “So we can fix it.” 

“It’s because of a boy,” Jane told her. Darcy squawked in protest. 

Natasha’s gaze sharpened. “Are you hurt?” Darcy made a face. Nat caught it and set her own bottle aside with a  _ thunk. _ “Does someone need to die?” 

Jane laughed. “No!” Darcy yelped. “No, not that kind of hurt!” 

“The  _ feelings  _ kind of hurt,” Jane elaborated, struggling to contain her grin. The tension in Natasha’s shoulders faded. She sat back and studied Darcy. 

“What has Barnes done now?” Nat asked. 

“Nothing, that’s the problem,” Jane said. She wiggled her eyebrows and tried a sip of the vodka.  _ “Blech.” _ She handed it back to Darcy with a grimace. 

“Does everyone know?” Darcy demanded. “Am I that obvious?” She collapsed back with a groan of despair. Jane patted her sympathetically. 

Natasha seemed to deliberate for a moment. “No. Not to anyone who doesn’t know you well enough to see it,” she said. “As for Barnes...” 

“It doesn’t matter,” Darcy said. “I’ll get my issues under control and everything can go back to normal.” 

Nat frowned at her. “You think it’s one sided?” Darcy gestured around the otherwise empty lab, as if to say _ ‘obviously.’ _ Natasha shook her head. “You’re an idiot.” 

“Hey!” Darcy said, offended. “I mean, probably, but hey!” 

“Barnes doesn’t think he’s worth it,” Natasha revealed. “He thinks he’s not allowed to have any good things in his life after what he’s done.” Nat stared into the bottle of vodka for a long moment. She cleared her throat after a beat of silence and finished with, “Especially not when it comes to you, Darcy.” 

There was a lull in conversation as Darcy considered the implications of that. Finally, Jane smacked her empty bottle down and announced, “No more moping! We’re going out.”

“We are?” Darcy asked. 

“Is that a good idea?” Natasha questioned, eyeing Darcy doubtfully. 

“Who cares,” Jane scoffed. “We’re going to a club, and we’re going to have a great time, and  _ you-” _ she pointed at Darcy- “are going to make out with someone super attractive to forget all about Barnes.” 

“I am?” 

“You are. Get up, we’re going.” Darcy sighed but let Jane tug her up and herd her towards the door. 

~*~ 

“I feel like shit,” Darcy said when she came out of her bedroom the next morning. “Also, my bed has glitter in it for reasons I do not recall.” 

Jane and Erica looked up from the kitchen table. Jane shrugged. “You downed an entire bottle of Nat’s vodka and then disappeared for three hours. I can’t help you there.” 

Darcy dropped into the chair beside Erica and slumped sideways into her friend. “My head hurts,” she pouted. Erica sighed and wrapped her fingers around Darcy’s wrist. Darcy moaned in relief when Erica started drawing the pain away. Deciding which rune to use made her head hurt even worse, and the werewolf pain-drain was a much more convenient option. 

A glittery pink feather boa pooled into her lap. “You also brought this back and told me I would make a beautiful drag queen,” Boyd told her with amusement. “Which I appreciate, by the way.” 

Erica cackled. “It was hilarious.” 

“I found a bar,” Darcy remembered suddenly. “It was a very fun bar.” 

“We’re going back someday,” Erica told her. “Assuming you can find it again.”  

“I don’t remember anything else after the first bar,” Darcy sighed. 

Jane snorted. “That’s because you finished off the vodka before we even got there.” 

Erica slid a finger under the silver chain around Darcy’s neck. “This is pretty. You steal it?” 

“I… don’t think so?” Darcy peered down at the delicate chain. “No,” she decided after a moment of serious consideration. “No, I did not steal it.” 

“Nat gave it to you,” Jane said. “After you disappeared. We went to a couple other places and then she got us back here. She just put the necklace on you and poured your wasted ass into bed.” 

“The Black Widow tucked you into bed,” Erica snorted. “You lead a very strange life.” 

Darcy examined the small pendant. “It’s got her symbol on it.” The delicate pendant had the Black Widow hourglass etched into its surface, the only acknowledgment Natasha had ever shown regarding her moniker. And now she’d given Darcy a gift with her symbol. Darcy wondered what it meant. 

“She’s saying that she loves you, too, in her own spy-ssassin way,” Jane said, peering at the necklace. 

“But why?” Darcy asked, bewildered. 

“Probably because you spent an hour explaining why you loved her so much and why you were so happy to be friends.” Jane grinned at Darcy’s defeated sigh. “Don’t worry, I got a speech, too. So did the bartender. And the taxi driver.”  

“You’re a very friendly drunk,” Erica observed. “When you got home, you kissed me square on the mouth and told me I was a treasure unlike any other.” 

“You tried to kiss me, too, but could only reach my chin,” Boyd said with a grin. He seemed to be enjoying this entirely too much. 

“I blame you,” Darcy told Jane, who just smirked at her. 

Jane sipped casually from her mug. “Nat’s gonna go browbeat Bucky into talking about his feelings, I hope you know.” 

Darcy whimpered and dropped her face into her hands. “Dammit, Nat.” 

“Ooh, are we finally talking about it?” Erica asked, perking up. 

“No,” Darcy said into her hands. “We are not.” 

Jane patted her on the head. “We are. Don’t worry, I’ll summarize for them.” Darcy thumped her head onto the table and gave up as Jane did just that. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Some pining, some moping, but mostly just female friendships. Don’t worry, it’ll all get better soon.


	15. Chapter 15

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> An interlude from Bucky's POV, to give some insight.
> 
> I'm somehow 5 chapters ahead now, so this is another extra update this week because I've been so productive (instead of studying for the GRE...). Next update will still be Monday!

Chapter 15 - Interlude (Bucky)

“You’re an idiot.” 

Bucky didn’t look away from the ceiling fan, spinning in lazy circles. He’d been watching it for hours now. Natasha huffed in annoyance and turned it off. 

“It’s not like you to run away,” Natasha commented. 

Bucky didn’t let the annoyance show on his face. “‘M not runnin’.” 

“Hiding, then.” 

He scowled. “Don’t know what you’re talkin’ about.” 

“You have feelings for Darcy.” Right for the throat, as usual. 

He wondered how much she remembered of the Red Room. Neither of them had ever brought it up, but it lingered between them like a bad smell. Bucky wasn’t sure he could bring himself to talk about it- what he’d been forced to do. What he’d taught those little girls to do. 

What he’d taught  _ Natalia _ to do. 

Regret and shame nearly choked him. Bucky closed his eyes and tried to remember the here and now. He focused on the surrounding room instead of the dark one drifting through his memory like an ever-present ache. 

Natalia- no. Natasha, he reminded himself. She was Natasha now. He rolled into a sitting position, shoulders hunched defensively against her disapproving stare. “I’m not-” He broke off and shook his head. 

Bucky stared around his empty room. The silence grew heavy with all the things he wanted to say but didn’t know how to put into words. “Yeah,” he finally said. The heaviness in his chest lightened with the admission. 

Darcy treated him like he was normal, from their very first meeting. He never got prying questions or averted eyes from her. She never acted like he was responsible for his past. 

He’d gotten caught up in that, in her acceptance and understanding. In the process, Bucky had forgotten the truth to what he was. Which was not worth it. He wasn’t worth the light and affection growing in Darcy’s eyes with every passing moment between them. 

_ Soldat. _ He was nothing but a soldier, a monster with decades of blood on his hands. 

In her defense, Darcy’s life was weird as fuck already. Super-soldier wasn’t likely any stranger to her than werewolf or Fae. And Bucky had genuinely enjoyed joining Darcy on her bizarre supernatural escapades- when she wasn’t seconds from death or dismemberment, anyway. 

In some ways, she reminded him of Steve. Maybe it was the general lack of self-preservation, or the way they both threw themselves into every altercation that crossed their paths. The righteous indignation and sheer stubbornness brimming underneath their skin. 

“And yet you’re here, hiding.” Natasha’s haughty tone jolted him back to the present. 

Bucky felt his hackles rise. “I am not hiding.” 

“Hmm.” She looked pointedly around the bare room. “You don’t know how to turn her down, then?” Natasha swatted one of the switchblades off of his dresser. Bucky watched it bounce off of the too-comfortable reading chair and fall to the ground, vaguely insulted. “Since you know she feels the same way.” 

“No, I-” Bucky blew out a breath. “It’s not that.” 

“So you’re just stringing her along.” This came out flat. Dangerous. 

“She deserves someone better,” he said quietly, staring at his hands. 

Natasha smacked him upside the head and shocked him out of his spiral of misery. “Don’t make decisions for her. It’s condescending and disrespectful.” Bucky blinked at her as he rubbed at the throbbing spot on his skull. Natasha narrowed her green cat eyes at him. “You know of her past and her present, and you still feel the same.” 

“Yes,” he said warily, not willing to risk Natasha’s ire. 

“And yet, after she shared this with you, here you sit. Hiding.” 

Realization only brought more regret and shame. “Oh.” 

“Oh?” Natasha repeated dangerously. “You understand what you’ve done? Breaking the trust she had in you? Cutting off all contact with her after learning of her past?” 

“After I realized that I-” Bucky cut off abruptly and swore under his breath. “I just needed to get my head straight.” 

“Why?” Natasha pushed. 

“Because I’m no good for her!” Bucky snapped. “I am-” He raised his eyes to hers. Natalia watched him back, expression so carefully blank it was like staring at a stranger. “ Вы знаете, кто мы, Наталья .”  _ [You know what we are, Natalia.] _

Natalia raised her chin and leveled Bucky with a regal stare. “ Я знаю, что мы были ,” she said. “ Но это еще не все, что я .”  _ [I know what we have been. But that is not all that I am.] _

“What if it’s all that I am?” He asked. “I’ll never be who I was, before the war.” He was tainted now, by death and pain. 

“We can only try to be better than we were,” Natalia responded after a beat of silence. “And not let our past dictate who we are allowed to become.” Bucky realized she was braced as if for a fight, though her breathing was shallow and measured.

He looked away to give her the space to compose herself. To shift back to who she’d become, despite the horrors of her own past. Bucky only glanced up when she stepped soundlessly across the floor. 

Natasha paused in the doorway and looked back over her shoulder. “We can only move forward,  учитель . No one decides what we are but ourselves. You taught me that.” She smiled softly when Bucky could only stare back at her with his emotions playing wildly across his face. “As for Darcy… Maybe you should let her decide what she wants.” 

Bucky was left alone in the quiet room with something like hope rising in his chest.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A little closure between these two, or at least an acknowledgment of their shared past. Natalia is her past, Natasha is her present. What she was, and what she made of herself after switching sides. In case that was confusing.
> 
> Учитель: teacher


	16. Chapter 16

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next update probably on Wednesday! I just have a few edits to finish first.

The morning of Erica and Boyd’s wedding dawned bright and beautiful. Darcy was up with the sun to help set up, joining Stiles in the Hale’s huge backyard. Andrew had commandeered the kitchen before Darcy was even awake, and Talia was completing last-minute requirements to be ordained online in her office.

Peter and Chris set up the rows of seats in the yard, directing Isaac and Scott when they arrived with the altar.

“Fairy lights,” Stiles said flatly, staring at the countless boxes of string lights. “In _all_ of the trees? This is gonna take forever.”

Darcy cocked her head, considering. “Or we could just...” She closed her hand and then flicked her fingers open, sending small dots of her magic scattering through the air.

Stiles brightened. “That’s a much better idea.” He copied the movement, grinning widely when the yard was suddenly filled with glowing lights.

Scott yelped and squirmed across the yard when a few wound their way into his hair and down his shirt. “Stiles!” He complained. Kira laughed at him from the deck, where she was setting up tables for the lunch.

“Sorry, buddy,” Stiles called back. He closed his fingers again and the lights disappeared. “We can wait to do that later,” he decided. “Want to go check the wards with me?” Darcy nodded and followed him into the forest, waving to Peter when he turned to watch them go.

“I have to get ready soon,” Darcy said around a yawn. She would be standing as Erica’s Maid of Honor, with Sophia as acting Mother of the Bride. Boyd had asked Derek to be his Best Man, since they were as close as brothers.

Erica wanted a simple wedding, with just family and close friends. A quiet celebration, at the place they called home for so many years with the family they’d found and kept.

“Lydia and Allison are bringing the booze,” Stiles reported. “Lyds was up half the night concocting God knows what for the ‘wolves.”

“Jackson and Danny are on flowers,” Darcy listed. “Laura’s picking up the cake in an hour.”

“And Cora’s going to the airport to pick up Jane, Thor, and Steve,” Stiles finished. Darcy ignored the pang in her chest at the deliberate avoidance of Bucky’s name. She wondered if he would show. “And I think that means everything is actually under control for once.”

Darcy hummed in agreement. “The nemeton’s happy we’re back.” She felt the earth magic winding around her as they strolled through the woods, ancient and vast.

“Yeah, I know.” Stiles made a grumpy sound. “I think I’m too sensitive to earth magic to stay near the nemeton for too long,” he said. “I accidentally made the tree outside Derek’s window grow four feet overnight because he complained about the sun waking him up yesterday.”

Darcy sputtered out a laugh. “Alright, Romeo, take it down a notch.”

“I’m not doing it on purpose!” Stiles protested. “I just have a natural talent!” Darcy shook her head, trying not to laugh at him. He trailed his fingers absently over the trees they passed and a few minutes later quietly told her, “My mom always had a green thumb. Her garden was beautiful.”

Darcy stepped closer to him, bumping into his side for comfort. “My mom was the total opposite,” she recalled. “She killed every plant she touched. She could never remember whether she’d watered it or not, so the plants either died from either too much or too little water.”

She remembered a small row of succulents lining the window frame of the small apartment they’d rented for nearly a year in New Orleans. Darcy could still feel the gentle press of her mother’s hands on her shoulders as she named each little plant. She’d given Darcy the task of monitoring them, smiling at her daughter’s enthusiasm for the simple chore.

They’d had to leave the plants behind, Darcy remembered. When a coven of witches took offense at a spark moving in on their territory and drew too much attention for them to stay. They’d ended up in Texas not long after, where Kate Argent finally caught up to them.

“I wish we could have had time together,” Darcy said. “Time to just know each other, I guess.”

“Yeah,” Stiles sighed. “I know what you mean.” He glanced sideways at her.

Darcy could tell he was working up the courage to ask, so she rolled her eyes and said, “No, I do not care that Bucky might be coming to the wedding, Stiles.” Steve had integrated so well with the pack that Erica insisted on inviting him along with Jane and Thor. She’d also extended an invitation to Bucky, before he and Darcy had imploded.

“I mean, say the word and I’ll make sure that doesn’t happen,” Stiles offered with a crooked grin.

“Did you just offer to fight the Winter Soldier for me?” Darcy asked, having some trouble restraining her laugh at the thought.

“I- Uh. Yeah, I guess I did.” Stiles cocked his head. “Without my spark, he’d flatten me, obviously. But I’ve got magic, baby.” Stiles let his spark swirl around their legs. “He’d be down in three seconds flat.”

“Thank you, Stiles,” Darcy said, amused. “But I’ll pass. Bucky has every right to be here. He was _invited.”_

“So?”

Darcy sighed. “Please don’t make him uncomfortable,” she pleaded. “I just want today to be perfect for Erica and Boyd, and my personal drama can’t be a part of that.”

“Fine.” Stiles settled down. “I still don’t get what’s going on, by the way.”

“And yet you’re still trying to fight him anyway.” Darcy huffed in exasperation. “”It’s nothing. I just... I got too invested before I knew what was happening. He doesn’t feel the same way. End of story.”

“How do you know he doesn’t feel the same way?” Stiles asked, skeptical.

“Because he’s been avoiding me for weeks,” Darcy shot back. She rubbed her hands over her face. “Ugh. I don’t want to talk about it, Stiles.”

“Okay. I still think you’re wrong, but okay.” That was probably the best she’d get from Stiles.

Darcy shoved her hands into the pockets of her sweatpants and went back to the house. Stiles waved and jogged off to help Danny, who had just arrived with a car full of flower arrangements.

“Oh, good, there you are!” Erica bounded over when Darcy when she entered the bedroom. “Go see Lydia first, she’s doing hair.” She pushed Darcy insistently over to the seat in the spacious bathroom, where Lydia stood with a curler and an impatient expression.  

Darcy sat and gave Lydia free reign. She watched Allison carefully applying her makeup as Erica greeted Sophia with exuberance from the other room. Sophia joined the rest of them, leaning down to press a kiss to Darcy’s cheek.

“Good morning,” Sophia said. “Maya says hello, too, she’s just downstairs drinking all the coffee in the house first.” Darcy laughed.

“Oh, Erica.” Darcy twisted to see her friend. Lydia made a noise of warning behind her at the movement. “Stiles and I have a better idea for the lights.” She demonstrated, filling the room with tiny, warm lights floating through the air.

Erica reached out and touched one, awed. “It’s going to be beautiful.” She pressed her hands to her chest and beamed at Darcy. “You’re literally giving me a magical wedding.”

Laura stomped up the stairs and into the room. “Reyes, your cake is a beast. It barely fit in my car.” Erica gasped excitedly. Laura quickly blocked the door. “No, you’re not going downstairs to see it. _You_ are going to get dressed so that you can get hitched and the rest of us can party.”

“And eat,” Kira said as she entered the room. “Whatever Andrew’s cooking downstairs, it smells amazing.” She peered out the window overlooking the front yard. “Oh, Cora’s back!”

Erica shoved the window up and leaned out to yell, “Foster! Baby Hale! Get up here, you’re late!”

“But I’m already dressed!” Jane shouted back. She gestured to her knee-length gown, a sparkling navy color embedded with small silver threads that looked like stars.

“Moral support, then,” Erica said dismissively. “Come on!” She leaned back inside, paused, and leaned back out again. “I forgot to say- _damn,_ y’all look good.” Darcy could hear Thor’s loud laughter in response.

Erica closed the window and met Darcy’s eyes in the mirror. She tipped her head towards the window and gave Darcy a sympathetic smile, which could only mean that Bucky was with the new arrivals. Darcy shrugged and returned her attention to Lydia’s detailed braiding.

Kira joined Allison at the mirror. “I wish the others could come. I still haven’t met the Black Widow, or Hawkeye.”

“They’re on a super-secret mission for Maria,” Jane said as she and Cora joined the group. “Which I know nothing about, of course.”

“Of course,” Darcy agreed with a conspiring grin. Jane followed Cora and Erica back into the bedroom when Sophia called for Erica to get dressed.

Lydia finished Darcy’s hair and nudged her out of the way so Laura could flop down into her place. Darcy rummaged through the piles of makeup and found her preferred eyeliner. Laura sighed, some of the tension loosening from her long frame. Darcy frowned through the mirror at her older sister. “Lo, are you okay?”

“Fine,” Laura sighed. She swiped a hand over her face and went boneless in the chair as Lydia started brushing out her long, dark hair. “Things are just a little weird with Mom.”

Allison glanced over her shoulder. “How so?”

In response, Laura flashed her eyes at them. Darcy raised her brows at the sight of Laura’s eyes, which flickered from a dark, muddy gold to a deep red and back again. “It’s making me super cranky, like, all the time.”

“Like how you growled at Talia when she was telling Jackson and Scott off for fighting last night?” Darcy asked.

“Yes. Because you guys are _mine,”_ Laura grumbled. Then she sighed and waved a hand in the air. “It’s just the transfer of power between Alphas. I’ve been fine since we were on opposite sides of the country, but everyone in the same house is putting me on edge.”

“Because you’re ready to take over?” Kira asked.

Allison passed the mascara to Darcy. “And because we all sort of consider you the Alpha, anyway, after being together in New York for so long.”

“And now you’re back home, with your mother as acting Alpha until she passes the title and power down to you,” Lydia surmised.

Darcy studied Laura’s expression and asked, “When exactly is Talia supposed to do that?”

“When I’m ready, apparently,” Laura sighed. “But really, it’s when _she’s_ ready to step down. We haven’t talked about it lately.”

“If you keep getting possessive over us, it’ll happen sooner rather than later,” Darcy pointed out. She looked over when Jane called her name in the other room. “That’s my cue to go get dressed.” She paused to kiss Laura’s cheek. “We love you, too, by the way.”

~*~

The ceremony itself was short and sweet, since Erica had declared early on that she never had the patience for long weddings.. Darcy and Derek stood for each of them, watching with teary eyes as Sophia walked Erica down the aisle. Erica wore a simple but beautiful gown of bright gold that made her skin glow.

Darcy swore under her breath later that afternoon after nearly tripping over the hemline of her own dress again, a strapless maroon color that offset the decor’s gold accents. She carefully adjusted her grip on the skirt and edged around the crowd of dancers, managing to completely avoid Bucky- as she had all day. To his credit, he seemed to understand and stopped trying to catch her alone.

She didn’t want to look at his stupid, earnest face while he let her down gently. She didn’t want to look at him at all right now, actually, because she was too busy making sure Erica and Boyd had nothing to worry about.

Steve caught her before she could slip back into the kitchen and search for the backup booze. “Dance with me, Darce,” Steve demanded, and twirled her around.

“Steve,” Darcy laughed. “I’m busy.”

He grinned down at her. “Busy dancing, right?”

“Fine,” she relented. “One dance. And then I have to go find the rest of the non-werewolf alcohol, before someone decides to give the wolfsbane brew a try out of desperation.”

Darcy ended up staying for longer than one dance, caught up in Steve’s enthusiasm and surprising skill. Too late, she realized Bucky was closing in on them. The laugh died in her throat when Steve paused at his friend’s touch and quiet, “Mind if I cut in?”

Steve obligingly stepped back, eyes darting between the two of them. Darcy said nothing as Bucky carefully took her hand and guided her forward. She felt stiff and tried not to look anything but composed, though her heart was pounding hard enough that he could have heard it.

Darcy kept her eyes no higher than his neck, unsure of how to feel but unwilling to begin a conversation. “I’m sorry,” Bucky started.

Darcy furrowed her brow in a picture of confusion and passively studied his jaw. “You have nothing to be sorry for,” she said evenly. Carefully neutral, polite.

Bucky’s jaw clenched. “Don’t shut me out, doll. Please.” Darcy glanced up, startled, and saw the regret on his face.

“That’s funny, coming from you,” she muttered. Darcy shook her head, taking a deep breath. “We’re not doing this now.” She knew she was teetering on the edge of having her heart broken, and Darcy wasn’t quite ready to take the plunge. “Look, Bucky. You don’t owe me anything, okay? Whatever you think is going on, just forget about it.”

She stepped out of his reach and walked away. Bucky watched her go, frustration in every line of his body. ‘Get it under control,’ she told herself. Bucky was still adjusting to the new century, the new world within, and projecting her own feelings onto him wouldn’t help anyone. They were friends, nothing more, and she had to remember that.

Even though he mattered. Bucky’s opinion _mattered_ to her, and the sudden distance between them hurt like a sucker punch to the face.

Darcy smiled when she saw Erica and Boyd still dancing together, unable to take their eyes off of each other. She felt a pang in her stomach, that familiar loneliness creeping back in, and slipped into the cover of the trees to give herself a moment. Just a few minutes to breathe, to get herself back under control so she could rejoin her family.

Darcy turned her back to the party. She rubbed the heel of her hand against the tight spot between her breasts. It felt like a weight had settled there, something heavy that dulled the happiness she was trying to project.

Her spark hummed, a warning as someone approached from the party. Darcy cleared her throat. “Just checking the wards,” she said casually. The runes on her armband glowed, covering her heartbeat from any of the ‘wolves that could hear the lie.

“Darcy.”

She stiffened, braced herself again, and then gave up. Her shoulders dropped in defeat. Darcy turned to see Bucky watching her in the soft light, hands in his pockets. “Yeah,” she said, equally quiet.

He stepped closer, tentative in a way she hadn’t seen from him before. Darcy prepared herself for another attempted apology and was caught off guard when instead, he said, “The first time I met you, you tore a building to the ground with magic I didn't even know was real. But even then, I could see that you were on a path to right the wrongs of people who know nothing but hate. It’s why I decided to stay with you in Romania. It’s why I let you convince me to come back with you.”

Another step closer. Darcy could only stare, arrested by the intensity in Bucky’s voice. “You were the first bit of brightness I’d seen in a lifetime. And the more time we spent together, the more I felt like you were everything I never knew I wanted. Needed.”

He slowly reached for her hand, giving her time to back away. Darcy didn’t move. Bucky slid his fingers into hers and stood closer yet. “After everything you’ve been through, I didn’t want to be one more bad thing in your life.”

“You’re not,” Darcy said softly. “You couldn’t be.” Not ever, she suspected.

The corner of Bucky's mouth tilted up in a wry smile. “You see the good in people, Darcy. That scared me, too, because I’m not sure I have any good left in me.” She could only shake her head in denial.

The air shifted, heavy between them now. Darcy could feel the delicacy of the moment, saw the openness of his expression, and felt that tampered hope in her chest brighten again. In response, the lights of her spark glowed brighter, floating dreamily through the air around them.

“I don’t deserve what you’re offering,” Bucky said lowly, mouth inches from hers. “But I still want to say yes.”

Darcy held his gaze. “Say yes,” she whispered. Darcy waited, heart in her throat, until Bucky finally smiled and closed the distance between them.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Can't drag out the angst any longer!


	17. Chapter 17

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Have a Tuesday afternoon update instead of one tomorrow! I'm so far ahead now I might even add an extra update this week :)

“Again!” Natasha barked. 

Darcy ducked and rolled to dodge Clint’s immediate strike, coming up fast to deliver a kick his knee. Clint sidestepped. Darcy lost track of time, too focused on the rhythm of the fight-  _ block, parry, strike, duck, repeat- _ to notice Bucky and Steve pause on their way to the gym to watch. 

She was breathing hard, sweat running down her back, when Clint managed to knock her legs out from under her. Darcy took a split second to evaluate, to realize she didn’t have the space to get back up safely, and twisted quickly to yank Clint down, too. 

He hit the mat like he’d done it on purpose. Clint flipped back onto his feet as Darcy rolled back to do the same. She crouched, ready to spring. Clint watched her from a few feet away. Darcy was gratified to see that he was also breathing hard- though, he  _ had _ spent an hour with Nat before Darcy showed.

Natasha moved in the corner of her vision. Darcy instinctively sprang aside, barely dodging the Widow’s strike. What followed was a blur of movement. Darcy surrendered to her training and instincts. She was suddenly grateful for the training with Chris and all of her ‘wolves- she could only keep up with the two former agents thanks to years of fighting werewolves faster and stronger than she was.  

Darcy kept her heart rate steady, blocking the natural panic that rose when Clint and Natasha moved in. She ducked underneath Clint’s hit and twirled around until she was behind him. Darcy planted a hand on the low dividing wall that separated the training floor from the weapons wall and leaped over it. She landed, snatched a slender but solid staff from the wall, and tucked into a backwards roll over the wall. 

Darcy spun the staff as she faced the two assassins, grinning with the familiar feel of the weapon. “Oh, you’re in trouble, now,” Bucky called. He crossed his arms and leaned against the doorway, amused. “I’ve seen her fight with that thing. She’s lethal.” 

“Doesn’t feel fair, all of a sudden,” Clint agreed. He eyed Darcy warily. 

Darcy scoffed. “Please. You’re a master assassin. I’m sure you’re more than capable of taking this away from me.” She angled to the side to keep Natasha in her sights. 

“You’re much faster than you give yourself credit for,” Clint pointed out. “And I don’t exactly  _ want _ to get smacked around with your giant stick.” 

“Running with ‘wolves,” she joked. “It was eat or be eaten.” More like always lose the race to the dinner table, what with her family. Clint huffed a laugh.

Darcy risked a sly glance over at Bucky. He raised a brow back at her, but the corners of his mouth tugged upwards. “What do you say, handsome? Want to help a girl out?” 

“Looks like you got it handled, doll,” Bucky said. He trailed his eyes appreciatively down her body. Darcy’s stomach tightened in response and she just barely resisted a shiver. 

“Am I gonna have to throw cold water on you two?” Clint asked. Darcy didn’t look over as she swung the staff around, lightning-fast, and took his legs out from under him. 

Bucky laughed out loud at that and then gave in. He elbowed Steve playfully out of the way and joined her, stepping carefully around Natasha. 

“Steven,” Clint called from the floor. “Why don’t you get over here and join us, hmm? Make it even.” 

“Oh, no you don’t,” Sam said as he passed by in the hall. He grabbed the back of Steve’s shirt and tugged. Steve went willingly. “You’re not busting his face up before we go to lunch with my family. It’s hard enough trying to tell them that he’s just a regular FBI agent without all the cuts and bruises.” 

“What, you don’t think I could take ‘em?” Steve teased. 

Natasha raised a scornful eyebrow. “His cover is FBI?” Clint snorted derisively. 

Sam eyed Darcy suspiciously. “That one’s got a big stick, babe, and the other one has already used your face as a punching bag once. Which I haven’t forgotten, by the way.” Bucky narrowed his eyes back at Sam, annoyed. It seemed to be their version of affection, Darcy assumed. Even though she’d caught Bucky using his metal arm to reflect light into Sam’s eyes the other day. “As for the others…” Sam scowled at the room. “Enablers, all of you.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Natasha sniffed. Clint coughed loudly into his fist. 

“I’ll see ya later, Buck,” Steve called. He slid an arm over Sam’s shoulders and guided the part-time hero along with a wink to the rest of them. 

“Dunno why Sam’s talkin’ like  _ he _ ain’t the enabler,” Bucky grumbled in an aside to Darcy, but he blocked Natasha’s rapid kick from behind with hardly any effort. “You’ll have to do better than that, Natalia,” he chided. 

Natasha dodged his follow-up strike with fluid grace. “So will you,  Учитель .” Darcy grinned at Clint’s resigned expression and got back to training.  

~*~ 

Three days later, Darcy slouched pathetically against the entryway to Bucky and Steve’s apartment. Bucky raised his brows at her messy hair and over-large hoodie, but couldn’t seem to stop the soft smile spreading across his face at the sight of her. 

“Help me,” Darcy whined. “I’ve been sexiled.” 

Bucky chuckled and stepped back to let her in. Darcy brushed against him on her way through the door, pausing to stretch onto her tiptoes and slide her mouth over his. Bucky hummed into the kiss, dragging his hands down her sides to pull her closer. 

“Really?” Sam asked loudly from the kitchen. “In front of my eggs?” 

Darcy broke away, laughing. Steve and Bucky wore twin expressions of confusion before they shrugged it off, resigned to this strange new century. She passed Sam on her way to the couch, stepping around Steve’s shield in the hallway, and stopped to study him. Sam glanced up from patching a scrape on his arm. 

“What happened to you?” Darcy asked, noting a few matching wounds on his legs. 

Sam shook his head, stoic. “Long story.” 

“Bullshit,” Bucky scoffed. He bumped against Darcy’s back, resting an arm over her chest. “You tripped and fell on your face three miles into our run.” 

“Because  _ you _ tripped me!” Sam said indignantly. Steve sighed loudly from the kitchen table as Bucky denied it vehemently. Darcy left them to their bickering and threw herself face down onto the huge couch. She closed her eyes and decided to appropriate the couch for a nap. 

Bucky eventually gave up on the pointless argument and sat down beside her. He set a steaming cup of coffee on the table and rubbed a hand along her back as Steve joined them. 

Darcy arched into the touch, squirming closer. Bucky trailed his fingers along her spine, sending goosebumps all down her arms. “What’s got you so tired, doll?” 

“Ugh.” She went boneless when he started playing with her hair, abruptly losing hold of her frustration. “I haven’t slept in three days,” she bemoaned. “Between Stiles and Derek, Erica and Boyd, and Jane and Thor next door to the tower’s apartment, all I hear is constant banging.” Even  _ with _ her sound-proof wards, which were honestly a minor headache to keep up 24/7. 

Darcy drew up on her elbows to stare accusingly at Bucky. “Do you know how hard it is to look any of them in the eye the next morning? All I can think is, ‘I heard every single sound you two made or,  _ so, _ you’re into breath play?’” 

Steve choked on his coffee. “I don’t think I want to know who,” he coughed. Sam handed him a paper towel with wide-eyed amusement directed towards Darcy. 

“Fuck my life,” Darcy muttered into the couch cushion. Bucky leaned forward and grabbed her coffee, holding it next to her face until she surrendered and sat up. Darcy pulled her legs underneath her and wriggled over until she was tucked into Bucky’s side. 

She pressed the mug into her chest to absorb its warmth and gave a sleepy sigh, resting her head on Bucky’s shoulder. “I want to take a nap,” she said, turning her face into his throat. 

Bucky rested his chin on her head and hummed in thought. “We could. These two aren’t any better ‘bout the noise, though.” Steve flushed a bright pink but couldn’t stop his somewhat smug grin. Sam elbowed him, as if he weren’t just as guilty. 

“We  _ are  _ leaving, though,” Sam told them. “Tony said he made some upgrades for my wings.” 

“And then we’re meeting your mom for lunch,” Steve reminded him. 

Sam blinked at him. “Since when?” 

“Since I talked to her earlier this morning?” Steve said. He rubbed at the back of his head, sheepish. “She called me.” 

“How did my mother get a hold of Captain America’s phone number?” Sam asked, dismayed. 

“Oh, I gave it to her the last time we went to her house.” Steve shrugged when Sam goggled at him. “What?” 

“National security, Steven,” Sam said flatly. “Does it mean anything to you?” 

“No,” Bucky said under his breath. Darcy smothered a laugh at the look Steve shot him. 

“She’s your mom, I wasn’t going to tell her no!” 

Sam found his shoes and tugged them on with an exasperated look at Steve. “Fine, but you’re telling Maria why you’re handing out your cell phone number left and right.” 

“I don’t give it to everyone!” Steve protested, following Sam out of the apartment. The door slammed shut, leaving the apartment in blessed silence. Darcy thought she might nod off right then and there. 

Bucky grabbed the cup before Darcy could drop it and set it back on the table. He huffed a laugh when she squirmed around, trying to get comfortable. Finally, Bucky just slid an arm underneath her thighs and tugged her onto his lap. 

He laid back against the arm of the couch, letting Darcy shift around until she was satisfied. Head pillowed on Bucky’s shoulder, body splayed across his, Darcy sighed and let the tension fade from her body. “‘M gonna take a nap,” she murmured. “Right here."

“Go right ahead, doll.” Bucky’s voice rumbled in his chest. His hand slid underneath the back of her shirt and he dragged it lazily up her back. Darcy hummed in appreciation, patted his chest in thanks, and let herself slide into sleep. 

She woke hours later to the quiet sound of the door closing. Darcy stirred and lifted her head to blink at the empty room, feeling somewhat disoriented. “Shh,” Bucky whispered. “Steve just had to come back for the shield. Go back to sleep.” 

“Mm,” was all the argument she could manage just then. Darcy rubbed at her eyes and asked, “Is everything okay?” 

“Chatter about an AIM hideout in the city,” Bucky explained. “Sam and Tony are going with him.” 

“What about you?” Darcy asked. She traced her fingers over the width of his chest, smiling at the pleased noise he made in response. 

“What about me?” 

“Do you not want to be out there with him? With Steve again?” 

Bucky was quiet for a long minute. Darcy almost retracted the question, unsure if she’d accidentally upset him, when he said, “I trust Wilson to watch his back. Stevie doesn’t need me anymore, even if he wants me there.” 

“So you don’t want to?” 

“I’m not sure I trust myself,” Bucky confessed. “To be in the heat of the moment, fighting with him right there next to me.” He pressed his face into her hair and closed his eyes. “When... Every time I remembered him, Hydra put me back in the chair. Sometimes I feel nothing but fear and anger when I look at him.” 

“Makes sense,” Darcy said. She could hear the shame and confusion in his voice and ached for him. 

“Does it?” Bucky asked, self-deprecating. “He’s supposed to be my best friend.” 

“It does,” Darcy told him firmly. “It’s a learned association. Thinking of Steve meant awful pain for you during that time, and after years of conditioning it’s only natural that it’s still there.” 

Bucky’s arms tightened around her. “Yeah. ’M workin’ on it,” he said roughly. “Besides,” he added after he’d composed himself. “Hydra’s always looking for the chance to retrieve their asset. I’d only cause problems if I went with him now.” 

Not if Darcy had anything to say about it. “But one day?” 

“Maybe one day.” He sounded thoughtful now instead of just lost. “Until then, though, you’ve usually got something crazy going on. I’m pretty busy keepin’ you alive these days.” 

Darcy thumped him half-heartedly on the chest in retaliation. “Not true,” she muttered. He caught her hand and held it over his heart. “I am surprised, though,” she added after a moment. “I was sort of expecting a super condescending lecture about how us dating would only put me in danger.” 

She could feel Bucky roll his eyes. “Like you won’t get yourself into a world of trouble anyway. At least this way I’ll know someone’s watching your back.” 

“Rude,” Darcy complained. Bucky was touching her almost absently now, trailing his fingers along the delicate bones in her hand. She resisted a shiver and said, “Hey Bucky?” 

“Hmm?” 

“I have the rest of the day free.” 

She couldn’t stop the grin from spreading across her face at his casual but clearly interested, “Is that so?” 

Darcy sat up so she was straddling his hips and looked pointedly around the room. “And it seems like you have the place to yourself for the day.” She trailed her hands down his front, curling her fingers into the hem on his shirt. 

So far, they hadn’t done anything other than make out like a couple of teenagers. The hesitation was mutual, but also combined with Darcy’s usual lack of privacy with her nosy, needy family.

Bucky watched her with an intensity that left Darcy a little breathless. She felt the heat growing low in her belly and shifted, eager, when his hands traced an achingly slow path up her legs. Bucky’s thumbs swept along her inner thighs, reaching higher and higher. He looked up at her from underneath his ridiculously long lashes. 

Darcy made an involuntary sound, catching herself before she could lean down towards him. Instead, she watched his face as she reached for the zipper of her hoodie. Darcy tugged the zipper down, inch by inch. Bucky’s fingers tightened on her thighs and his gaze dipped down to watch the slow reveal. 

She tried not to let her sudden nerves show, but Bucky must have seen something on her face because he reached up and caught her hand. “We don’t have to do this, doll. There’s no rush.” 

“I know.” Darcy smiled down at him. “It’s just been a while, that’s all.” 

He gave her a wry smile. “For me, too.” 

“Plus,” she continued, fiddling with the zipper. “I don’t usually have sex unless there are feelings involved first.” Bucky waited patiently while she tried to find the right words to explain. “As in, I’m usually not even interested in people that way at  _ all _ until I’m emotionally attached.” 

“‘Emotionally attached’?” Bucky crooked a grin up at Darcy. “Is that your way of saying you love me, too?” Her own smile faded and Darcy could only stare at him in wonder. Bucky sat up in a spectacular display of abdominal strength that had her salivating a little. She tipped backwards in his lap with the movement, unsteady, and was braced by a his metal hand spread wide on her back. 

Face to face, nearly nose to nose, Bucky murmured, “I thought that’s what all the drama was about.” Darcy curled helplessly into him, entranced by the expression of adoration on his face. “With all the running away and not talking ‘bout our feelings.” 

“I thought you didn’t want me back,” Darcy admitted quietly. She shivered when he gently reached up and traced the thumb of his free hand over her cheekbone. “And yeah. I realized I’d fallen in love with one of my best friends. I didn’t know what to do about it.” Except cry, but she wasn’t going to admit that one. 

The look on Bucky’s face was worth the risk of saying those words out loud, worth the risk of spilling her heart to him. “Bucky,” she said softly. “I love you.” He closed his eyes for a long moment, long enough that Darcy couldn’t stop herself from reaching up to cup his jaw. 

Bucky opened his eyes, and Darcy chose not to comment on the wetness of his lashes. She slid an arm around his neck and wriggled closer, pressing up against him. Bucky groaned a little when she swiveled her hips a little, curious, and tightened his arms around her. 

“Doll, take it easy,” he gritted out. She grinned and repeated the grinding motion in his lap, sliding her nose along his and playfully biting at his bottom lip. 

“Don’t want to,” she murmured. “James.  _ Bucky. _ I want you.” 

“‘M tryin’ to say that I love you, too,” Bucky said through his teeth. He was breathing a little hard, she was satisfied to see. “But I guess I’ll just have to show you, huh?” 

Darcy couldn’t stop the surprised squeal when he stood, one arm supporting her underneath her thighs as he carried her out of the room. “Where are we going?” She asked, clutching at his shoulders. 

“Do you know how many times I’ve walked in on Sam and Steve goin’ at it on that couch?” Bucky demanded. “As much as I’d like for karma to bite them in the ass, it’s not gonna be at the expense of yours.” 

Darcy laughed and caught his mouth with her own, drawing out the kiss in a long, slow slide that made a pulsing heat build between her legs. Darcy curled her hands into his hair and bit at his bottom lip, gasping when Bucky responded in kind. 

“Besides,” he said lowly. “I’d rather make you fall apart an actual bed. Bit. By. Bit.” He punctuated each word with a gentle bite down the line of her throat. 

“I’m so down with that,” Darcy gasped as he turned into a bedroom at the end of the hall. “So down, you don’t even know.” 

Bucky’s mouth curved into a grin against her neck. “Let’s get started then, hm?” He asked, and kicked the bedroom door shut behind them. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> SO I might have another part to this series after this with oneshots following a very loose plot/timeframe, just for fun... It'll include another side of Darcy's training with Nat & Clint, team and pack bonding, and of course Bucky. It will also probably be explicit.


	18. Chapter 18

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am on a ROLL. So many chapters written in so little time... So here's another update for the week! Next one will be Friday :)

Darcy stirred lazily as Bucky skimmed his mouth along the back of her shoulder, moving her hair out of the way with a gentle hand. He swept a hand down the length of her bare back and she sighed in contentment. 

“That never gets old,” he murmured, sitting up to watch her tree tattoo shiver and glow brighter with every brush of his hand. Darcy hummed in response and let her eyes drift closed again. 

“Who’da thought,” he marveled. “That all those stories were true.” His hand rested on her hip, thumb rubbing back and forth over the dimple low on her back. 

“The stories that Steve’s mom told?” Darcy asked sleepily. 

Bucky made a sound of agreement. “I always thought they were just bedtime stories to keep the punk still long enough for him to fall asleep.” His hand skimmed up her side, chasing the otter tattoo as it darted playfully over her skin. “But during the war, some of the guys would tell stories, too.” 

“About?” 

“Magic,” Bucky answered, feeling a little awed as he stared down at her. “I never really believed them all the way, thought maybe they were just makin’ stuff up to keep everyone distracted.” The otter soared across Darcy’s back to hide within the tree. “And now I have a beautiful woman in my bed whose existence defies every rational argument I could make.” 

“Flatterer,” Darcy teased. She bit her lip when he lowered his head and trailed his tongue down her spine. “Tell me more,” she said breathlessly. 

Bucky scraped his teeth over the small of her back and Darcy jerked helplessly against the hands pinning her hips to the bed. She pressed her tongue to the swollen curve of her bottom lip and shoved her face into the mattress to muffle her quiet panting. God, she was already raring to go again, despite the last four hours spent in his bed. 

“You got a figure that would’a been painted on the nose of a plane back in the day,” Bucky told her. He traced the line of her body with an admiring stare. “You got curves for days, doll.” Darcy snorted but still had to hide her blush. Bucky retaliated by swatting her on the ass. “No arguments.” 

“No arguments,” Darcy agreed with a dramatic sigh. She turned over at his insistent nudging and smiled up at him when he leaned over her, staring with admiration. 

“Gorgeous,” he murmured, brushing the hair away from her face. She met him halfway for a kiss, mouth opening under the warm press of his. Darcy’s last coherent thought was,  _ More. _

~*~ 

“Hi, I’m Stiles, it’s nice to meet you,” Stiles said as Darcy brushed past him into his apartment. 

“Please,” she scoffed. “Like you’ve ever been happy to meet someone. Also, it has not been that long.” 

“You’ve been suspiciously absent the past couple days,” Stiles argued. He slammed the door and pointed her to his spare room. “The pack is going through withdrawal. I’ve kept them away out of solidarity.” 

Darcy pressed her hand against the rune etched into the wooden surface of the door. It flared briefly when she activated it, and then the door unlocked and swung open. “Solidarity?” She asked Stiles, who followed her into the pack’s makeshift war room. 

“Please, we all know you were off fucking the Winter Soldier into the mattress,” Stiles told her. 

“That’s nice, Stiles,” Darcy sighed. “Really appropriate.” 

“Since when have either of us cared about that?” 

She could only tip her head in agreement, already distracted by the maps and reports pinned to the wall. “You’ve been busy,” she commented, reading over the new information he’d somehow acquired. 

“Yeah, plus-” Stiles jogged over to the opposite wall and tugged down a marked-up screen from the ceiling. Darcy glanced up as a projector whirred to life above her head. She looked back at the screen in time to see a massive map displayed across the wall. The markings on the screen now portrayed specific locations of the odd reports and strange deaths they’d been tracking. 

“There’s no pattern I can see,” Darcy remarked. She stepped closer to study the map.

“But there is,” Stiles said grimly. “Each of the deaths reported- marked in red on the map- are within twenty miles of a known Fae gate.” Darcy’s blood ran cold.

“So, what, the Unseelie Court is now crossing over to kill people?” She asked. 

Stiles shook his head. “I don’t think so. Each of the victims were also robbed. See- here, in New Orleans, a witch was killed and an entire section of her personal library was missing.” 

“So they want information,” Darcy murmured. “Question is, for what?” 

“Boyd and I have been working on establishing what all was taken.” Stiles gestured to the stack of papers on the large round table in the room. 

Darcy nodded. “I’ll keep working on that.” She skimmed through the reports, shuffled around until she found the list of known missing items, and settled in to work. 

She surfaced some odd hours later, bleary-eyed and exhausted, at a careful knock on the door. Stiles, spread out over the second wall of connected events and suspected ties, turned to squint at the closed door. He snapped his fingers and the door swung open, revealing Derek with Bucky and Clint behind him. 

Clint, likely expecting a regular bedroom, goggled at the war room. “The hell?” He wandered in after Derek, scanning the room with a trained eye. Bucky joined Darcy at the table. 

“I was gonna bring you dinner,” he told her. “You weren’t in your apartment.” 

She leaned into him when he sat down beside her and motioned to the stack of papers. “We’re trying to put together all the crazy.” Darcy glanced up when Natasha slipped into the room and didn’t react at all to what probably looked like a den of insane conspiracies. 

“Another,” Natasha told Stiles. She snatched up a marker and drew an ‘X’ over a spot in southern Indiana. “A farmer and his wife were killed. Police can’t figure out how or why, but it was as brutal as the others.” 

Stiles shrugged at the look Darcy was giving him. “What’s the use of a brilliant spy-ssassin if we don’t use her skills?” 

Natasha tossed the marker aside and stared at Darcy. “You have a problem.” 

“A couple,” Darcy agreed. Bucky huffed a quiet laugh beside her.

Across the room, Clint straightened in alarm and pointed to a small, handwritten page of notes on the wall. “Are these the security codes for all of the New York police precincts?” Clint asked, wild-eyed. Everyone ignored him. 

“An increase in suspicious deaths, missing power, and old magic stirring again,” Natasha summarized. “I can feel the difference. Something’s changing.” 

Darcy jerked upright. “That’s it! Old magic! Nat, you’re a genius.” She scrambled over to the computer and hunched over it to type rapidly; Bucky caught the flurry of papers left in her wake. 

“Seriously, how do you have all of this?” Clint asked. He looked at Natasha, concerned. “Why do they have all of this?” 

“This,” Darcy said, straightening as a new map flickered onto the screen. “Is a map of the ley lines all over the world.” She caught Clint’s baffled expression and added, “They’re channels of magic, from the earth and, uh, life itself if you want to get really poetic.” 

Stiles caught on. “Overlay this map with the one before,” he said. 

Darcy did just that, and the room stared at the tangle of lines now crisscrossing the world map. “Holy shit,” she said to herself. “How did we not see this?” 

“See what?” Clint asked, squinting at the screen. “How can you see anything, with all the lines in the way?” 

“The Unseelie Court is coming through Fae gates that are located on convergences of the ley lines,” Darcy explained. She pointed to the closest cluster of lines and identified the reports surrounding the area. “Those gates would be the strongest, stable enough for them to safely pass through no matter who holds them.” 

“What does that mean, though?” Derek asked. 

“What it means,” Lydia said from the doorway, “Is that the Unseelie Court is going to try something at one of these convergences.” 

Darcy nodded. “Whatever they’re planning, it’ll happen at one of these clusters of ley lines.” 

“That still leaves us with a lot of potential places,” Stiles pointed out. “And we still don’t know exactly what they’re even planning.” 

She turned to Bucky. “Rain check on dinner?” Darcy sighed. Natasha joined Lydia in the kitchen, the two redheads speaking in low voices. Clint followed, looking helplessly lost. 

“We can always order in, instead?” Bucky asked, tangling their fingers together. “And start figurin’ out this world domination plot you’ve uncovered.” 

“You’re such a romantic,” she teased, and dropped into his lap. Bucky grinned and wrapped an arm across her hips to keep her steady. 

Stiles rubbed at his eyes. “No, why don’t we all go to dinner?” He suggested. “It’ll get us out of here for a little while.” Derek slid a hand to Stiles’s waist and drew him in. 

Darcy glanced at Bucky to confirm and then nodded. “I’m going to go find my shoes.” Bucky followed her out of the war room, leaving Stiles and Derek speaking quietly by the map. 

“You sure you’re okay to go out?” Darcy asked. She knew the pack could be overwhelming, but they’d all lived in each other’s pockets for years now. None of it seemed weird anymore to her, though Bucky may have different thoughts on the constant company. 

“‘Course,” he told her. He cocked a head back towards the room. Darcy tuned in just in time to hear Stiles’s quiet “I love you,” followed by an even quieter, “I know,” from Derek. 

Stiles sputtered. “You did not just Han Solo me!” He said, outraged. Derek herded Stiles to the front door with a grin on his face. Bucky and Darcy followed, Darcy pausing briefly to check her phone for Erica’s response. 

“Erica and Boyd are joining us,” Darcy announced. “After they close up.” 

“Ru Sans?” Stiles asked on the stairs, craning his neck to peer up at the rest of them. Derek bumped into him impatiently until Stiles kept walking. 

“Sounds good to me,” Darcy answered absently. She scrolled through her emails, replied to Jane’s text, and texted Laura, too. Jackson and Danny were already on their date night, but Allison and Lydia would join them once Allison got off work. 

Stiles shoved his hands into his jacket pockets and stepped into Derek’s personal space. Derek pulled him even closer as they began the walk to the pack’s favorite Japanese restaurant. “Did you see the request from this morning?” Stiles asked Darcy. 

Darcy nodded. “Pack dispute over territory in upper New York. I considered it, if I have the time later on. You?” 

“Yeah, but last week that ifrit tried to set my hair on fire, so it’s your turn to negotiate,” Stiles told her. Darcy snorted a laugh as Bucky’s eyebrows climbed higher on his forehead. 

“I’m still mad that I missed that,” Laura said, detaching from the shaded alley just ahead of them. Bucky twitched imperceptibly towards the closest weapon on his body, then relaxed when Laura stepped into the light. 

“So am I,” Stiles scowled at her. “A werewolf or two would’ve really come in handy.” 

Laura tossed an arm over his shoulder, dislodging Derek. “Yeah, yeah, keep on whining.” The ensuing argument turned only slightly violent, ending with Derek nearly hip-checked by Laura into traffic. 

“They always like this?” Bucky dipped down to ask in Darcy’s ear. 

“You have no idea,” Darcy sighed. 

Jane fell into step with them, Thor trailing her closely. “Don’t let her fool you,” she told Bucky. “She’s just as bad as the rest of ‘em.” 

“Don’t tell me you’re still mad about the other day,” Darcy said. Stiles snorted a laugh. 

“The other day? What happened the other day?” Laura scowled at them. 

“We had a brief run-in with the law,” Darcy hedged. Stiles looked innocently up at the darkening sky, whistling. She made a mental note to make him work on his completely unbelievable act of innocence. 

“When?” Bucky asked, brow furrowed. “I’ve been with you most of the week.” 

_ “Yeah, _ you have,” Laura muttered with a dirty grin aimed at the pair of them. Derek elbowed her. Darcy sent him a grateful look. 

“Picture this,” Jane said, bringing them back on topic. “We- me, Darcy, Stiles, and Erica- are in a bar.” 

“You guys went bar hopping without me?” Laura asked, dismayed. “You traitors.” 

“No, no, we initially went to see Julian about reaching out to his contacts,” Darcy assured her. “And then we got... sidetracked.” 

“A dude at the bar slipped something into a girl’s drink,” Stiles explained. 

Erica and Boyd jogged across the street to join them. “Ooh, are we talking about last Tuesday?” Erica asked gleefully. Boyd shook his head and shared a commiserating look with Derek. 

“Long story short, Erica flirted with the guy to distract him, Jane got the girl out, and Darcy and I took care of things,” Stiles summarized. 

“So how did the police get involved, exactly?” Bucky asked, already skeptical. Bless him, Darcy thought fondly. He was catching on to their ways so quickly. 

“We were unfairly accused of poisoning him,” Darcy told him seriously. 

“You were framed?” Laura asked, interested. 

“No, we did it,” Stiles said with a dismissive wave of his hand. “They just don’t have any proof.” Laura looked even more interested now. Boyd just groaned beside Erica. 

“Relax,” Erica said with a roll of her eyes. “The dude isn’t dead.” 

“He just wished he was.” Stiles shot a viciously satisfied grin over his shoulder. “For several hours.” 

“And then we turned him over to Julian,” Darcy finished. “Because not only was the guy a vampire, he also tried this in one of Julian’s clubs.” 

“You’re all horrible,” Jane said grumpily. She caught Laura’s look and huffed. “The guy got what he deserved. But I had to spend four hours at the police station being questioned later that night!” 

“No good deed goes unpunished,” Erica said solemnly. 

Stiles shrugged. “Next time, we’ll just make sure they don’t remember our faces.” 

“I have so many questions,” Bucky could only say. 

Jane patted him on the arm, sympathetic. “You’ll get used to it. They may all be batshit crazy, but at least their hearts are in the right place.” 

“Jane, that was practically a love letter coming from you,” Laura sniffed, pretending to wipe away a tear. 

“You signed up for this,” Darcy reminded Bucky. She tucked her arm into his and smiled up at him. 

“I did,” he agreed. 

Allison and Lydia were waiting in front of the restaurant, Allison struggling with a sweater. “How did Lydia manage to pick me up from work and get us here before you guys? It’s not that long of a walk,” Allison said with a grin. The group just shrugged collectively. Allison gave up on the sweater for the moment as Lydia directed them all into the restaurant. 

Familiar with their insanity, the hostess just pointed them back to the largest table in the corner of the restaurant. Darcy settled in with Bucky and Erica on either side as the pack crowded around the table. 

“So,” Allison said, propping her chin on her hands. “Catch me up on this afternoon’s discovery.” Stiles took over, neatly summarizing the realizations from earlier today. Erica and Boyd leaned in to listen, while Darcy spoke quietly to Jane. 

“This Queen,” Thor said when she’d finished. “Does she possess greater magic than your mother?” 

Jane chewed at her lip, thinking. “I don’t know,” she admitted. “I don’t know much about her, other than the stories.” 

Darcy glanced carefully down the table and then warded their conversation. Stiles looked up briefly, aware of the magic. “If the Unseelie Queen were to cross over, would we be able to face her?”

“You think that’s what she’s planning?” Jane whispered. Darcy shrugged with a grim expression. Jane loosed a breath, thinking hard. “I mean, if it were the Seelie Queen, then I’d say maybe. I’ve never fought her before, so I don’t know who’s actually stronger.” 

“But?” Darcy prompted. 

“But I think I could,” Jane said quietly. “I think I could beat her, especially if she crossed over.” Thor caught her hand and pressed a kiss to the back of it in silent support. 

“Then I’m going to hold out hope that we can face the Unseelie Queen, too,” Darcy decided. She sat back and dropped the wards, feeling marginally better. Bucky, wrapped up in a discussion with Boyd while the others debated the Fae plot, settled an arm over the back of her chair.

Allison was back to struggling with the sweater, one Darcy recognized from her personal collection of hand-knitted projects. “Well,” Allison said distractedly, squinting at the sweater. “We’ll just have to be creative with our plan of attack.” 

Erica perked up. “Like the wendigo last summer!” 

“Son of a bitch.” Darcy thumped her head on the table. “Why did you have to bring that up?” 

Allison finally got the holes of the sweater right and grinned at over at Darcy, her hair bearing a striking similarity to a bird's nest. "C'mon, Darce, that one was fun!

"Says  _ you. _ All you had to do was stand back and shoot. I ended up over a cliff!"

"It was a very small cliff," Stiles assured Bucky. He didn't look any less concerned. Darcy appreciated it.

“I thought it was fun,” Erica said. 

Boyd grinned around his drink. “Me, too.” 

“I’ll maim you with this chopstick,” Darcy threatened. “I really will.” They both just laughed at her. 

Darcy leaned back against Bucky’s arm, letting him tug her chair closer. She settled against him, content, and went back to arguing with her family. 


	19. Chapter 19

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next update is Sunday!

Tony Stark, Darcy suspected, liked his people more than he let on. Which was a lot, judging by all the gadgets he spent hours developing for them and the specially-designed apartments for each Avenger and their affiliates. 

And all the parties he threw for them. Well- ‘parties’ was a generous word, especially in comparison to the legendary Stark ragers that Darcy had only seen pictures of or read about in the tabloids the next day. 

But these quiet get-togethers, designed to help the superheroes unwind in a familiar environment with people they trusted, did wonders for the team’s morale. 

Of course, Stark tended to run away when feelings were expressed, so he had to add his own spin on things so no one got too grateful. Tonight’s dinner was in light of ‘Steve’s First Mission of the 21 st Century in Which He Did Not Jump Out of a Plane Without a Parachute.’ 

Steve was not impressed to see the huge banner decorating the wall, but seemed to understand Tony’s strange ways of showing affection, because he only glared a little bit at Tony. 

Darcy, seated at the bar, crossed her legs and successfully managed to avoid flashing anyone across the room. Her new, vintage-style wrap dress and the red stilettos borrowed from Erica’s closet had received an  _ extremely  _ flattering reaction from Bucky when he’d stopped by the lab to pick her up for the dinner. Jane was still shooting them judgmental but amused looks for arriving a full thirty minutes late with flushed cheeks and swollen lips. 

She leaned back in to her discussion with Maria and Helen Cho. “Sometimes,” Darcy continued, “You have to take the law into your own hands.” Steve nodded in agreement behind Darcy. 

“Oh my god, there’s two of them,” Bucky groaned. 

"Idiots," Sam said beside him in a rare moment of solidarity. 

"Like you're any better!" 

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Sam said indignantly. 

“You ran headfirst into trouble for some punk you knew for about ten minutes,” Bucky pointed out. 

Darcy intervened before they could start another argument. “Let’s go play pool,” she told Bucky, hopping down from her stool. Clint perked up from nearby. “Not a chance, bird boy. You cheat.” 

“I don’t cheat!” Clint said, offended. “You’re just mad that I won the last game!” 

“Yeah, because you  _ cheated,” _ Darcy said. She dragged Bucky over to the pool table and passed a pool stick to him. “I’ll break.” 

“You played against Barton?” Bucky asked, amused. 

Darcy scowled. “Yeah, and I would’ve won, too.” She doubted even Clint could beat Maya and Braeden in a game of pool, and they’d been the ones to teach her. 

“Lies,” Clint said from behind her. She jerked in surprise and slammed an elbow into his gut. He doubled over, coughing. 

“Lewis, no abusing the superheroes,” Tony scolded as he meandered over. 

“Not even if they deserve it?” Darcy asked, eyeing Clint as he selected a pool stick. Tony snorted. “Alright, fine, Tweety Bird.” Tony smothered a laugh into his drink.

_ “Rude.” _

“You’ve got yourself a rematch,” Darcy challenged. Bucky wisely decided to stay out of it and joined Tony to observe. 

“You’re on, Lewis.” Clint squared his shoulders. “Winner gets bragging rights forever.” 

“Prepare to have your ass handed to you,” Darcy said, and proceeded to do just that. 

~*~ 

“I got you something,” Jane said as she rejoined Darcy in the lab.  

“If it’s not coated in gold, I’m not interested,” Darcy responded from the floor, half-underneath the massive quantum spectrometer that had started smoking ominously hours ago.

“Well, then it’s your lucky day,” Jane drawled. 

Darcy popped up from under the machine. “Really?!” 

“No.” 

“Damn it.” 

“It’s coffee,” Jane said. “And a donut from that place you like so much.” 

Darcy gasped and scrambled upright. “That’s even better!” She snatched up the paper bag and inhaled the fumes of the donut inside. “Jane, I knew you loved me,” she moaned. 

“Uh huh,” Jane said, unimpressed. “Do you need a moment? Should I leave you two alone?” 

“Yes,” Darcy said with her mouth full. “That’d be great, actually."

“Tough shit.” Jane crouched down to assess Darcy’s progress on the repairs. “You didn’t call Stark, did you?” 

“No, I can fix it,” Darcy assured her. 

“Good.” Jane scowled. “He’s being nosy, trying to butt in on this experiment.” 

“Probably because you have the capability to open portals to the far ends of the universe and he doesn’t want that inside of his house, Janie,” Darcy pointed out. Honestly, it was a perfectly reasonable concern. 

“He needs to grow a pair, then,” Jane muttered. 

Darcy coughed to cover her laugh. “Anyway,” she said before Jane insulted Tony further, “I’ve got the rest of the machines set up for the experiment. And if you give me a couple more minutes, I’ll have this finished, too.” 

Jane wandered off to let Darcy finish her repairs, double-checking that everything was ready to go. She had what she needed, and though she hadn’t tried, Jane knew deep inside herself that she could open gates to other worlds with her own power if she wanted. 

It was just a matter of controlling  _ where  _ she opened them. And scientifically proving that it was even possible. Distracted, Jane didn’t notice as her elbow brushed against the control board. A small switch flipped over as Jane continued on with her inspection. 

“Ready,” Darcy said ten minutes later. She brushed off her hands, satisfied. “Hit the switch, boss.” 

Jane rolled her eyes but crossed the room to start the experiment. The machines hummed to life. Both women eyed the quantum spectrometer, but it whirred to life without any issues. Darcy spent the next ten minutes cross-checking the data reports, ensuring that nothing was incorrectly calibrated. 

Satisfied that the readouts were accurate, Darcy sat out of the way to let Jane pace back and forth. The Fae muttered to herself, snatching up printouts and scribbling notes along the margins. 

Everything went smoothly, all the way up until it didn’t. 

Fifteen minutes into the experiment, Darcy heard a high-pitched whine and looked up to meet Jane’s wide eyes. They both dropped everything and scrambled towards the machine, trying to reach the power input. Jane was closer, meaning she reached it just as there was a  _ click-click- _

Darcy didn’t think, just threw every ounce of her magic into a shield around Jane, who was kneeling only inches away from the machine when it exploded. The force of the blast threw Darcy back, through the glass walls of the lab. The walls shattered with the explosion, raining glass and burning metal around both women. Darcy felt her back and head slam against the wall, gasping as the air was knocked clean out of her lungs. Her vision blacked out and she faded into oblivion, still reaching desperately for Jane’s slow-moving form across the room.

Jane groaned across the lab, dragging herself to her knees. “Darcy,” she coughed, looking around. Alarms blared, so loud Jane could barely hear herself think. “Darcy!” She yelled again. 

Movement caught Jane’s eye as Avengers poured into the lab from the far end of the room- Darcy stirred slightly, crumpled on the shattered remains of the glass walls. Jane swatted Thor’s reaching hands away and stumbled towards her friend. 

“What happened?” Tony demanded, stepping out of the Iron Man suit. He caught sight of Darcy, too still by far. “Jarvis, get Dr. Cho down here!” He scrambled over, following Jane. “She’s cracked her head open,” he swore. 

Jane stripped off her hoodie and carefully pressed it against the bleeding wound on Darcy’s head. “The power input malfunctioned, just went berserk,” she told Tony. “The thing exploded, we couldn’t get to it in time.” 

Tony scanned Darcy for other injuries, wincing at the sight of the handful of glass shards embedded in her skin. “How close was she standing to it?” He demanded. 

Bucky skidded into the room just then, followed closely by Sam and Steve with the shield. Steve nearly crashed into his friend when Bucky froze at the sight of the lab, staring in horror. “Darcy?” He called, looking around for her. 

“Over here,” Jane called, realizing they were hidden by the overturned desks. Bucky threw it aside as he approached. 

“Why isn’t she answering- Darcy!” He slid to his knees beside her, pressing two metal fingers against her neck. “She’s still breathing,” Bucky said tightly. 

“Don’t move her!” Dr. Cho barked from the door. Tony stepped back as she shoved through the gathered Avengers, giving the doctor space. Dr. Cho pulled out a scanner and ran it down Darcy’s prone body, the tension leaving her shoulders when it glowed green. 

“What does that do?” Bucky asked, wrapping his fingers around Darcy’s. 

“It scans for breaks,” Dr. Cho said as she checked Darcy’s pulse. “Nothing in her spine was damaged,” she reported. “We need to get her up to medical.” 

Jane looked up, anxious. “She’s losing a lot of blood.” 

“Head wounds bleed a lot,” Dr. Cho reassured. “But I agree, the faster we get her upstairs, the better. Get a sample, we’ll need to know her blood type in case she needs a transfusion.” 

“I can do that,” Tony said immediately. “Jarvis, run Lewis’s profile. Find medical records, get blood type, and see who’s the closest match for a transfusion.” 

“We have plenty stored,” Dr. Cho said. “But let me know. You.” Bucky looked over. “Can you carry her downstairs? There’s too much damage at this end of the hall, the elevator’s not working on this floor anymore.” 

“Careful,” Jane hissed as Bucky gingerly lifted Darcy up. Jane kept her jacket pressed to Darcy’s head and walked with Bucky towards the stairs. Dr. Cho followed closely.

They left the others behind to stare at the destruction in the silent lab.  

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Dun dun DUNNNNN


	20. Chapter 20

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> okAY OKAY I"M SORRY!! Have an early update as an apology for the cliffhanger lol

**Tony**

“Sir.” 

Tony barely registered Jarvis’s interruption, too busy scanning the readouts from the machine before it blew. He’d  _ personally _ make sure this never happened again. 

“Jarvis, pull up the security feeds,” Tony commanded. 

“Sir, there is-” 

“Not now, Jarvis,” Tony said impatiently. He was brimming with helpless frustration, remembering the sight of the vivacious young woman lying unnaturally still in a hospital bed upstairs. 

The security feed appeared on the screen closest to him. Tony watched as the women set up for the experiment, observing every careful movement, every joke and teasing grin between them. He saw when the power input was tripped, realized that the program running the system glitched, changing the maximum amount to ten times the acceptable amount. 

Tony saw the women realize what was about to happen, glanced down at the papers in his hand, and nearly missed what happened next. 

On the screen, Jane reached the machine seconds before it exploded. Tony held his breath as Darcy screamed, thrusting her hand out towards her friend. He saw the machine’s power systems override, saw the fear on Jane’s face, and was completely unaware of the papers in his hand fluttering to the ground as he watched a bright gold wall of…  _ something _ explode out of Darcy Lewis’s hand to cover Jane. 

Darcy was blown violently backwards, through the walls of the lab. The protective film covering Jane flickered and then disappeared when Darcy went limp, leaving Jane unscathed from the explosion that had occurred  _ inches _ from her face. 

“Jarvis,” Tony said sharply. “Run that again, but slow it down.” Tony watched the footage again and again and again, until he couldn’t deny what was playing out right in front of his face. Darcy Lewis was some sort of witch, had some sort of power that could stop an explosion that could have leveled Foster's entire lab. 

“Sir,” Jarvis said again. 

Tony couldn’t tear his eyes away from the screen, didn’t know how long he’d been staring at the footage. A strong sense of betrayal swept through him, warring with disbelief and wild uncertainty. 

“Sir, I ran Miss Lewis’s DNA profile to determine the best possible match for a blood transfusion.” Tony was barely listening. “Sir. There were similarities with her sample and your own on file.” 

Another file appeared on the screen, replacing the security footage from the lab. “What is that?” Tony asked hoarsely. Jarvis didn’t respond, likely aware of the moment Tony realized what he was seeing. “Holy fuck.” Tony could barely breathe, felt like the walls were closing in on him with every heartbeat. “Jesus, Jarvis, tell me that’s not what I think it is.” 

“I’m afraid I can’t do that, Sir.” Tony felt the blood drain from his face as he stared at the screen.  “It seems Darcy Lewis is, in fact, your biological daughter.” 

~*~ 

Somehow, he kept it together. 

At least, long enough to double and triple check the results. And to stare in disbelief at the security footage. Again. And again. And again. 

He had a  _ daughter. _ Living right under his nose, all this time. Even more, it was someone he already knew and respected, someone he had let into his home. Someone he’d trusted. 

Tony watched the security footage one more time. Watched the magic explode from Darcy Lewis’s hand, the unbreakable shield she created for Foster. And wondered if that magic was capable of other things. 

He found her conscious and slowly stirring, trying to crawl out of the hospital bed. “James, I hate hospitals!” She swatted his hands away and nearly fell flat on her face. 

“Would you quit?” Bucky demanded. “Stay still, doll, you just had your brains scrambled.” 

“No, it’s fine, I already fixed it.” 

“Fixed it?” Tony asked. He saw her startle badly and nearly tumble out of the bed again. Bucky just barely caught her, shooting Tony a look. Tony was too distracted by the flash of ink on her skin to notice, a shape that moved too fast for him to make out anything definitive. 

Everything had moved so fast earlier, with Darcy’s injuries and the destruction of the lab, that he hadn’t noticed the armband of strange symbols tattooed on her arm. An urgent sense of warning crept up Tony’s spine at the sight of the odd and obviously powerful sigils. 

Jane barreled past him just then, holding a water bottle and an armful of food. Thor followed at a much more sedate pace, Natasha on his heels. “I brought food!” Jane announced. She waved a package of goldfish in the air. 

“Jane, I told you I’m fine,” Darcy protested. The goldfish smacked her in the chest and fell to the bed. Darcy stared down at it in exasperation. _ “Jane.”  _

“You just got launched through a glass wall,” Jane snapped. “You don’t get to argue.” 

“About that,” Tony interjected. He crossed his arms and leveled the room with a hard stare. “How is it that you don’t have a scratch on you, Foster?” Jane fell silent, looking to Darcy. 

Darcy pressed her palm to her forehead, willing the throbbing ache away. Once it subsided, she looked up and met Tony’s gaze. 

And then she knew that he’d figured it out. “You watched the security footage,” she said. 

“You’re damn right I did,” Tony said angrily. “And I’m assuming that the rest of the team knows, based off of their lack of surprise to find a witch here.” 

“I’m not a witch,” Darcy said tiredly.  _ Damn _ it, but she’d tried to keep him out of this mess. She was fervently grateful they hadn’t changed her out of her jeans and t-shirt as she climbed out of the bed. Bucky didn’t stop her this time, just steadied her with a hand on her elbow when she tilted dangerously. Jane stepped up on Darcy’s other side, flanking her. 

Darcy looked at Tony and nearly flinched at the betrayal in his eyes. “I know it looks bad,” she started. Bucky rested a hand on her hip and squeezed it in support.

“Bad? That my entire team was conspiring to keep me in the dark while I let a witch run around my tower, doing God knows what?” Tony bristled, furious. Darcy could see the foundation of his anger, though, and knew that it stemmed from broken trust more than anything. Because of her. 

“It’s complicated, Tony.” Darcy wrapped her arms around her waist, feeling vulnerable. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean for it to go like this.” She shook her head. “But I’m not a witch. I have magic, yes, but I don’t ever use it on anyone here.” 

“You’ll have to forgive me for not believing everything you say,” Tony shot back. “Considering that you’ve been lying to my face since day one!” 

“I had to!” Darcy protested. “Do you even know the kind of influence you have? The extent of your reach? I  _ have  _ to keep these secrets, or innocent people would die.” She read the dismissal on his face and clenched her fists in frustration. “You don’t understand.” 

“Oh, I understand plenty,” Tony said grimly. “You’ve been working your magic inside my tower. Tell me, how’d you manage to alter the DNA test?” He held up the paper and stared at her accusingly. 

“What?” Darcy asked, baffled. She looked at Jane, who shrugged. Thor looked between Tony and Darcy with sudden realization. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.” 

“No?” Tony stepped forward, angry. “Somehow, you altered the DNA test Jarvis ran to make us a biological match.” 

“Jarvis ran a DNA test?” Darcy looked at Tony in bewilderment. Fuck, her head hurt. 

“Let me see that.” Jane snatched the paper out of Tony’s hands. She scanned it quickly and then nearly dropped it in shock. “Oh, my god.” 

Darcy turned to her friend, grateful for Bucky’s silent support beside her. “What?” 

Jane handed her the paper in answer. “She’s not capable of that,” Jane said tightly. She glared at Tony. “Darcy can’t do anything like this, besides the fact that it’s impossible anyway.” Tony scoffed. 

“This can’t be right,” Darcy said numbly. 

“What is it, doll?” Bucky asked lowly. 

She showed him the paper. “It says that Tony is my biological father.” She looked at Tony. “Is this some sort of joke?” And oh, how she  _ hated  _ the way her voice wavered.  

“You tell me,” Tony said, crossing his arms. 

Darcy started to bristle under his accusing glare. “I didn’t do this, you dick. Stop looking at me like that.” 

“What are the odds,” Tony said, “that you end up in my tower working for me and  _ just so happen _ to be my daughter?” 

“Slim to none,” Darcy murmured, eyes dropping to the page again. She looked back up and met his hard gaze with one of her own. “I don’t want anything from you.” Something undefinable flashed across Tony’s face at that. “And I’m doing just fine on my own.”  _ Without you, _ she implied with a pointed stare. Darcy crumpled up the paper and tossed it aside. “So whatever paranoid conspiracy you’ve come up with, you can forget it.” 

“It’s not paranoid if you really are a witch,” Tony retorted, though he looked less certain. 

“For the last time, I’m not a witch!” Darcy shouted. The lights flickered above them. Tony looked suddenly wary. Jane looked thoughtfully at the ceiling, then back at Darcy. She stepped back to nudge Thor meaningfully. 

Darcy ignored their whispered conversation and focused on controlling her heart rate. It was pounding in her chest suddenly, almost painful. She felt trapped again, with Tony blocking the door and watching her like she was a stranger- or worse, an enemy. Thunder rolled outside, deep and threatening.

She swallowed hard and looked back at Tony. “You don’t owe me a thing,” she said hoarsely. “And since this is obviously the last thing you wanted, how about we forget this ever happened?” 

For the first time since he’d walked into the room, Tony looked somewhat contrite. Darcy caught Jane’s eye, who mouthed, ‘Get ready.’ She nodded, grateful for her friend’s quick thinking. Darcy let her hand slip from Bucky’s and stepped to the side. 

As if on cue, Thor’s eyes flashed. Lightning struck the tower, hard enough that the lights surged and then went dark for a brief moment. Darcy took the opening and surrendered to the tug in her belly, the image of her own apartment pulling at her insistently. 

She took a deep breath and let the darkness take her away. 

It felt the same as before, like she was being suffocated in complete darkness. Like the world closed in around her with enough force to steal her breath, her sense of time and space. Just when she thought she might die, that this time just might be the end of her, she opened her eyes and saw her apartment.

Darcy stumbled forward a few steps and nearly crashed into her coffee table. Erica and Boyd scrambled out of their bedroom to stare at her in shock. 

“Did you just-” Erica turned to look at the door, positive she hadn’t heard it open. 

Darcy couldn’t look up at them. She pressed a shaking hand to her mouth as tears swelled and spilled over, running down her face. 

“What happened?” Boyd demanded. “Darcy?” They closed in around her, worried. Darcy could only shake her head before she burst into tears. Her friends didn’t hesitate, just held her tightly and let her cry. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, yes, obviously I've been working up to this the entire time and yes, I KNOW it's taken forever but I had a lot of shit to get written first. But now the secret(s) are out!! 
> 
> And yeah. Tony didn't take it well, but he's only working with 'betrayal' right now. Also he isn't a fan of surprises. It's a lot to take in.


	21. Chapter 21

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> MAN you guys were rough on Tony. He's got major trust issues, remember?? Lol cut the guy some slack

Darcy sat to the side of her family’s celebrations, hardly able to muster up any cheer for the occasion. Erica and Boyd shot her concerned glances but kept their promise- no one else knew about the disaster two days ago, when she’d collapsed in tears and somehow managed to stammer out an explanation to her friends.

She didn’t know how to process it all anyway. Darcy finally had an answer to the uncertain question she’d lived with her whole life. 

Tony Stark was her father. 

It made sense, on a logical level. He’d been at MIT the year her mother graduated- she'd seen the tabloids of his  _ many  _ exploits during that particular party. Darcy had a knack for engineering, for math, all things that Tony’s daughter would be expected to have. They even looked a little alike, with the dark hair and short stature and stubborn chin. 

And yet, she couldn’t picture them together. Not as a family. And certainly not after he’d all but accused her of making the entire thing up out of some plot to get something from him. She scowled out at the yard where the pack milled around, waiting for Talia. 

“All this flying back and forth across the country must be tiring you out,” Peter commented as he sat beside her. He handed her a glass of wine that she only stared into. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen you this quiet.” He watched her face closely. “Unless something’s happened that I don’t know about.” 

She couldn’t stop the way her gaze flicked guiltily from the wine to Peter and back again. Peter’s focus seemed to sharpen. “Darcy. What happened?” 

Darcy fiddled with the necklace Natasha had gifted her. “I don’t want to talk about it,” she said miserably. Peter took a quiet breath, subtly reading her scent. She was too tired to bother with her runes. 

“Darcy,” he said again, quietly. 

“It doesn’t even matter,” she said thickly. “Because you’re my dad, anyway. He was never there, not ever!” 

Peter’s expression blanked out. “You found your father?” 

“It doesn’t  _ matter,” _ Darcy insisted. She stared at him through a blur of tears. “Dad. It doesn’t matter, right?” She watched him struggle to get his face under control. “Right?” 

Finally, he set their drinks aside and pulled her over into his chair. She pressed her face into his shoulder and cursed the tears that slipped out. A sudden flash of power had her looking up and around. Stiles tipped his head in acknowledgment and held the wards to give the two of them a moment from the rest of the pack. Darcy smiled weakly at him in thanks and dropped her head back onto Peter’s shoulder.

“Of course it doesn’t matter,” Peter murmured. “Not at all, if you don’t want it to.” 

“He didn’t want me,” she said after a moment. “He found out I had magic and freaked out. Accused me of tampering with the DNA test that he apparently ran. Called me a witch a couple times, which, rude.”

“Darcy,” Peter said in a slightly strangled tone. “Who, exactly, is your father?” 

“You,” she said mutinously. 

“Yes, obviously, darling, but you know what I meant,” he sighed. 

Darcy swallowed. “Tony Stark,” she whispered. 

Peter choked on air. “Tony Stark is your father,” he said flatly. 

“No, Tony Stark is an asshole,” Darcy grumbled, still hurt over the whole ordeal. 

“Wait, he called you a  _ witch? _ Darcy, what the hell happened?” Darcy sighed deeply and started to explain. She wished for Jane’s fierce presence, but the Fae had stayed behind- in part to guard New York while the pack was absent, and also to give Darcy updates of the other tower residents. 

After Thor had spent three hours talking Jane out of dumping Tony Stark’s ass into the Fae realm, of course. 

“So, he had the supernatural revelation on the same day he found out he was a parent,” Peter surmised once she’d finished. “What a day for Stark.” 

“Don’t sympathize with him,” Darcy said with annoyance. “He was a dick about all of it.” 

“Darling, I’m just trying to consider what it felt like to him,” Peter said soothingly. “It must have been quite the shock.” He brushed a hand over her hair when she looked away. “But I’m sorry, Darcy, that he reacted so poorly.” 

“Doesn’t matter,” she said softly. “I’ve got all I need right here. Well. Minus-” 

“Barnes?” 

“Yeah.” 

“No, Darcy, over there.” She sat up and twisted around, only to see Bucky climb out of an SUV in the Hale’s driveway. Darcy could only stare for a moment in disbelief before she scrambled off of Peter’s lap and bolted over to him. 

Bucky caught her and lifted her into a hug so tight it made her ribs creak. “What are you doing here?” She asked, muffled into his shoulder. 

“What’ya mean, what am I doin’ here?” He asked, incredulous. “You literally vanished into thin air right beside me, and then all I get from you is a text sayin’ you were going home for a little while.” 

“Really, Darcy?” Peter asked judgmentally from behind them. 

Darcy ignored him and choked out, “I’m sorry.” Bucky set her back on her feet so she could reach up and cup his face with her hands. “Oh my god, I’m so glad you’re here, you have no idea.” 

“I have some idea,” he murmured, leaning in. Peter cleared his throat pointedly. 

Darcy dragged Bucky’s face back to hers when he looked sheepishly up at Peter. “Go away, Dad,” Darcy said firmly, squirming closer until she and Bucky were pressed tightly together. “Werewolves have no shame,” she told Bucky seriously. “It’s time they got a taste of their own medicine.” 

She put up a shield to make her point. Darcy grinned into the kiss when Peter growled in annoyance and left them alone. Bucky slid his hands down her sides and gripped her beneath the thighs. Darcy gasped in surprise when he lifted her, whirled around, and deposited her on the hood of the car. 

“Better,” he said, satisfied, and scraped his teeth along her jaw. He worked his way back up to her mouth, hesitating a breath away. His metal hand slid down to her thigh, hiking it up his waist. 

The other hand slipped into her hair to cup the back of her head, tugging just enough to tilt her face up to his. The kiss was soft and tentative at first, and then grew in intensity until nothing else mattered except for opening her mouth so that Bucky could kiss her deeper, slide his tongue against hers until she forgot everything else around them. 

Stiles’s spark crashing against her own brought her raging libido to a screeching halt. Darcy flailed in alarm for a second and then dropped her shield. Stiles eyed her from the yard, which was lit by their sparks as night fell. “Right,” she said distractedly. “Right, yeah. The thing.” 

“The thing?” Bucky asked, looking around. 

Darcy pressed a kiss to the corner of his mouth, suddenly feeling much lighter. “C’mon,” she said, sliding off of the hood of the car. “You’ll like this.” 

She dragged him by the hand over to the backyard, where Laura and Talia stood surrounded by the rest of the pack. Stiles elbowed her when she slowed to a stop beside him, on the outskirts of the gathering. Darcy elbowed him back and pulled Bucky closer with a nod to Talia. 

Talia brought her hands up to rest on Laura’s shoulders. She stared proudly at her eldest daughter, flanked herself by Andrew and Peter. Derek and Cora stood behind Laura with their chins lifted high. 

“Laura Hale,” Talia began. Bucky straightened at the deep echo of power in her voice, the way her eyes glowed a bright red. “My daughter. You’ve proven yourself a worthy Hale heir, time and time again.” 

Laura’s eyes shone with pride, mirrored by her siblings at her back. Talia smiled at them and continued. “Times are changing, and we must change with them. The Hale Pack must always have a leader that upholds the values of wisdom, courage, and integrity.”

“The stronger the pack, the stronger the Alpha,” Andrew said. “And although this pack has grown in size, we still retain the strength of the pack bonds.” Because, Darcy knew, a pack’s strength didn’t necessarily come from size. A pack of four wolves, closely bonded, could rival the strength of a pack with twice the size but none of the affection and love. 

“We trust you will maintain those bonds, and uphold the values of the Hale Pack,” Peter joined in. 

“Laura Hale,” Talia said. “Do you swear to uphold these values, no matter the cost?” 

“I swear,” Laura said firmly. 

“And do you swear to protect the pack, all that the Hale Pack stands for now, and the future of the pack?” 

“I swear.” 

“Then I, Alpha Talia Hale, pass on my power and title willingly to my daughter, who is the most worthy Alpha apparent that I have ever known.” Talia extended her claws and scratched one thin line across her heart. Laura copied the movement. Blood welled and the cut did not heal as the ‘wolves wounds usually did. 

Talia spoke in a low voice, and though Darcy strained to hear, she could not make out the words. Stiles looked equally confused beside her, but none of the werewolves reacted. “Must be a werewolf thing,” Darcy said under her breath to Stiles. 

Laura’s gasp had them both whirling back around. Slowly, the red drained from Talia’s eyes, leaving her with a murky gold of beta-but-more. The Alpha Prior, one who would remain if Laura passed before her time- assuming the power didn’t fall to Derek or Cora first. 

Laura’s eyes finally lost the rusted yellow color and began to bleed a bright, vibrant red. She swayed dangerously for a moment, half-shifted as she struggled to maintain control with the onslaught of her new power. Derek and Cora crowded closer to her, as did the rest of the pack. 

Darcy and Stiles stayed back, still not officially members of the pack, even now. Allison and Lydia sat with Kira a few feet away to watch the proceedings. Danny had been hauled into the fray by Jackson already. 

Darcy leaned against Bucky and watched as her sister finally raised her head, red eyes triumphant. Somehow she already seemed more settled in herself, as if the transfer of power had finally soothed that raw edge in her. 

“Alpha Hale,” Talia said, and bowed her head. 

Peter grinned at his niece and then, with a wink in her direction, tipped his head back and howled. The sound echoed through the trees, raising goosebumps along Darcy’s arms. 

As one, the rest of the pack howled at the moon in a resounding harmony. 

“Great,” Stiles muttered. “We’ll be hearing about wolves in Beacon Hills forever now.” 

Darcy bumped her elbow into his side. “Everyone in town already thinks we’re a bunch of freaks,” she pointed out. “I can’t wait to see what they come up with, actually.” 

Laura laughed, clear and bright as the pack tried their best to smother her. She shook them off and looked towards the small crowd of non-wolves. “It’s time we made it official, wouldn’t you say?” 

Talia looked worried, like maybe she might object, but Andrew pulled her back and whispered in her ear. Darcy knew that Talia and Laura disagreed on a few key topics when it came to the pack, but she’d never expected her sister’s first act as the Hale Alpha to be a giant ‘fuck you’ to the rest of the supernatural world. 

Well. It was _ Laura,  _ so maybe she wasn’t as surprised as she should have been. 

Erica and Boyd reached over to drag Darcy and Stiles into the group. Bucky surrendered his hold on her after a sideways look from Erica. Lydia approached haughtily, as if they should all count themselves lucky that she agreed to this, while Allison and Kira looked uncertain. Laura grinned at them all. “You’re already family,” she told them. “In every way that counts. I’m tired of listening to what everyone says we can and can’t do, who we can or can’t have in our packs.” 

Erica wriggled excitedly beside Darcy as Laura stepped up to face her. “Darcy Lewis-Hale,” Laura said with all the love she felt written on her face. “Do you agree to protect the pack no matter what, to love them as family like you have for years?” 

“Yes,” Darcy said, heart pounding. 

Laura rested her hands on Darcy’s shoulders. “Then I name you- finally- a member of the Hale Pack, little sister.” She pressed a kiss to Darcy’s forehead, and Darcy nearly fell over in shock at the sudden flood of warmth in her chest. 

“I can feel you,” she said dumbly. Like little threads connecting them all, Darcy could feel the bright pulse of light from each member of the pack crowded around her. 

“I can feel you too!” Erica bounced excitedly. She tackled Darcy into a hug. 

Laura moved on to Stiles, then Lydia, Kira, Allison, and Danny. “It means something,” Laura said once she was finished. “Making it a legitimate pack bond.” No more wondering why she wasn’t enough, Laura’s eyes told Darcy. 

“Now what?” Stiles asked, rubbing his chest absently. Derek wrapped around him from behind, nose buried in the crook of Stiles’s neck. 

“Now we run,” Peter grinned. 

Darcy quickly escaped the group as they started to strip and shift. She joined Bucky, a little teary-eyed. “Want to run with us?” She asked. 

Laura sidled up to them. “Say the word, hot stuff, and you’re ours, too,” she told Bucky.

Bucky gaped at her. “I... can- should I...” 

Laura took pity on him. “Think about it. You can be family either way, but you have the option to join us if you’d like.” She patted his arm and then yanked her clothes off to shift into a massive slate-grey wolf. 

“Jesus,” Bucky said faintly. 

Darcy suppressed her amusement and tugged on his arm. “Come run with us.” Bucky took a long look at the ‘wolves prowling the yard, Kira flashing the bright fox-fire orange in her excitement, Stiles’s lanky fox tumbling to the ground after a nudge from Derek. Allison and Lydia laced up their running shoes, laughing with Danny. 

“I know it seems crazy,” Darcy said in sympathy. “But it’s fun. Promise.” Bucky seemed to be swayed. “Plus, we play tag later on, and that’s always interesting.” She held up her hand and let the gold of her magic shoot sparks in her palm. “We make a good team,” she wheedled. 

“Alright, doll, I’m in.” Bucky sighed in defeat and gestured for her to go ahead. “Let’s go run with your wolves.” 

~*~ 

“Hey, Darce, we got something from Naomi,” Stiles said as he sorted through the mail. “She sent it to New York and it looks like one of the other tenants forwarded it to us.” 

Darcy, sitting on the floor with Bucky’s head in her lap, looked away from the movie to squint up at Stiles. Boyd, propping her upright on her other side, huffed at the interruption. He was shifted into his wolf, Isaac sprawled out next to him. Erica and Cora had claimed the couch and dozed behind their heads. 

“Isn’t she somewhere in the Middle East?” Darcy recalled. 

“Kuwait,” Stiles confirmed with a quick look at the return address. “It’s pretty heavy, whatever it is.” He tossed the rest of the mail aside and tore the package open to reveal a thick leather-bound notebook. Stiles whistled long and low at the sight of the cover. “Look at these runes.” 

Darcy’s brows raised in surprise when Stiles tried to open to book and couldn’t. “It’s heavily encoded,” Stiles said, studying it intently. He loosed a breath. “This is going to take some work.” 

“Do you think she found something about the Unseelie Court’s plans?” Darcy asked. She accepted the book from Stiles and ran a hand over the runes engraved in the leather. 

“I think that she found something,” Stiles said, troubled. “Something important enough that she felt like she had to hide it.” 

“And add enough protection to it that a nuke wouldn’t even singe it,” Darcy said, vaguely recognizing a long line of the sigils. Bucky sat up to study it, too, careful not to disturb a still-sleeping Scott shifted next to him. 

“What now?” Bucky asked, fingering the leather. 

“Now,” Darcy said grimly. “We try and crack Naomi’s code. If we’re lucky, then she found something that will keep us alive when the Fae make their move.” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The next chapter is Naomi's POV! It's very important, and not just because I love her. See ya Wednesday!


	22. Chapter 22

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Naomi Okoro, World Explorer.
> 
> Also, plot.

**Naomi**

She’d forgotten how much she loved the desert sun. 

Naomi turned her face up to the sun and closed her eyes, enjoying the feel of the heat sinking into her bones. The boat rocked beneath her feet, a lulling rhythm as familiar to her as the sound of her mother’s voice. 

As if summoned by the thought, Naomi’s mother brushed a hand down her daughter’s back. Naomi’s eyes opened at the touch and she turned her head to study her mother’s regal profile. Though she’d just passed her 67th birthday, her hair a dignified grey and laugh lines on her face, Aaliyah Okoro didn’t look a day over 40. 

“There’s something you aren’t telling us,” Aaliyah observed. “Something that’s got you worried.” Naomi only shook her head. She couldn’t let her parents get involved. Not with  _ this,  _ whatever it was, that had Naomi waking up with a scream caught in her throat from the visions dancing through her mind. 

“ Nwam nwanyi ,” her father said from behind them. He joined them at the bow, pressing a kiss to Naomi’s head. “Kedu ihe kpatara gị?”  _ [Daughter, what troubles you?] _

The familiar Igbo language fell naturally from her lips. “Ọ gba aghara ,” Naomi answered solemnly. “ Dị ka ikuku na-ejide ume ya .  Na-echere akara akara .”  _ [Unrest. Like the air is holding its breath, waiting for the seal to break.] _

“Ee.” Aaliyah grasped her husband’s hand and looked troubled. “ Oké osimiri na-echekwa ya .”  _ [Yes. The sea feels it, too.] _

Kachi pressed his wife’s fingers to his lips. “The weight of the world is not yours to bear alone, my loves.” Naomi smiled back at the pair, momentarily swamped by her love for them. Her father looked beseechingly at her. “Won’t you come with us to see your brother? I do not like leaving you alone here.” 

“You have been alone too long,” her mother agreed. She settled back into Kachi’s arms and studied Naomi with knowing eyes. 

Naomi’s spark hummed, winding around the tattoos on her body. Her skin, warmed to a rich dark brown after weeks on the ocean, suddenly felt less tight than it had over the past few days. 

No. This was where she needed to be. This was where she would find answers. “Kuwait is a very large city,” Naomi said. “I won’t be alone.” Aaliyah huffed at her, but her father laughed. 

“Always a tricky one, our daughter.” He chuckled and propped his chin on top of his wife’s head. “You be safe, Naomi. Don’t make us come haul you out of trouble. We’re getting too old for that.” 

Aaliyah snorted. “Says the man who tried to fight tomb raiders two months ago.” 

“Aaliyah, they were  _ stealing _ from an ancient historical dig site!” Kachi looked at her, indignant. “What was I supposed to do?” He tutted. “Disrespectful.” 

“I’ll be fine,” Naomi told them, smiling at her father's outrage. “Say hello to Samuel for me.” Her brother was likely still busy saving the world one person at a time at his hospital in Somalia. 

They approached the port, and Naomi reached for her gathered bags. Passport in hand, she waited as her mother expertly brought the ship alongside the security checkpoint. Once approved, they continued through to the port itself. 

Naomi stepped off the boat after hugging both of her parents. “ Ányị́ ga hú!” _ [Goodbye.] _ She raised a hand in farewell as they turned back for the open sea. 

She found a hotel easily enough and warded the room after a thorough search. Once finished, Naomi sat on the single bed and finally acknowledged the urgency burning under her skin. 

They were running out of time. 

She had visions nearly every night now, and struggled to put the pieces together through all the panic and fear the visions left her with. The sheer chaos that was to be unleashed left her reeling, and that was just in her vision. When the time came… 

Well. Naomi knew now that they needed more. Which is why she was here, in an unfamiliar city, to find answers. To find something to give them an edge over the Unseelie Court’s plan. 

And, if her magic was correct, she was in the right place to find it.

~*~ 

Naomi found that she had a new appreciation for her father after the third trip to an abandoned tomb site. So much of the sites had been stripped bare before archaeologists were able to study them, to treat the dead with the respect they deserved.  

The ribbon of runes winding from her hip to ankle shifted as she stepped further into the most recent tomb site, creating a rune that she used to light the way. She had runes the same age as Darcy or Stiles inked on her skin, complex sigils that they hadn’t yet discovered. 

But that was also the way of the sparks- to find your own way. Control couldn’t be given, it had to be earned. Respecting magic was the only way a spark could truly become what they were supposed to be. 

During the years before their downfall, Naomi had seen that ideology shift. Young sparks demanding answers, the shortcuts to managing their own power. They were handed what they needed to discover on their own, and it showed when the Ak’ma appeared and they couldn’t defend themselves. 

But this new generation, Naomi mused. They gave her hope. They were willing to work for it, didn’t take anything for granted. The newly inked tattoo over her heart seemed to throb briefly. 

Her anchor, the bird tattooed across her back that her animal manifestation fused with when she gave up her spark, remained immobile. Maybe she’d broken that part of herself when Alec died. Or maybe she just hadn’t earned it back yet. Still, Naomi ached at the thought that she’d lost it forever. 

She walked the length of the tomb, careful not to disturb anything. Old magic and powerful items, somehow still left untouched in this raided tomb. In the previous tomb, she’d found the dusty remains of a spell book. It added clues to the picture forming in her mind- a picture that kept her awake, staring at the ceiling, all night long. 

Back in her hotel later that day, Naomi put together the information she’d collected so far. It filled most of a leather-bound notebook, and, if it fell into the wrong hands, would provide neatly organized instructions to potentially take over the world. Naomi considered her expansive knowledge of runes and wards for a long while. 

The key, she decided after writing out a long line of runes to create a complex code, would be what they shared. Not just magic, but the heart of what they were. That finished, Naomi stared down at the now-illegible writing and smiled to herself in satisfaction. 

“Those idiots better figure this out,” she muttered, and went to bed. 

The hotel staff helpfully agreed to mail her package to Darcy and Stiles in New York on her way out the door the next morning. Some of the tension left her shoulders with the knowledge that, even if she ran into trouble she couldn’t get herself out of, someone would have the necessary information to stop the Unseelie Queen. 

Naomi caught the eye of a druid across the street, who blanched at the sight of her. She narrowed her icy blue eyes at him, not in the mood to be friendly. How many times she’d been told to not seem intimidating, to change herself so others could appreciate her more, she didn’t know. 

Too often, they forgot that sparks themselves were weapons of war. 

The druid disappeared into the crowded streets, glancing fearfully over his shoulder once. Naomi adjusted her headscarf, satisfied, and continued on. 

“Despicable,” she muttered to herself at the deserted tomb later that day. Naomi looked unhappily at the trashed crypt, noting that even if the Unseelie Queen had sent members of her court to steal powerful items or relics, every trace of it would be overrun by the humans who had come later. 

She walked the length of the room, carefully letting her spark loose to probe the nooks of the room. Resigned that she still hadn’t discovered what her magic felt near this city, Naomi turned to leave. Her magic slipped across the tomb as she did so, and Naomi shivered at the immediate warning that crawled up her spine. 

She paused and turned back. 

Cautiously, wincing at the thought of her father’s reaction if he ever found out, Naomi unceremoniously shoved the stone top off of the coffin. She stepped back, coughing at the onslaught of dust, and then peered inside. 

Empty. 

“Who the fuck steals a thousand-year old mummy?” Naomi muttered as she studied the coffin. To her surprise, the coffin had lines of runes etched around the interior surface. “Oh,” she said in surprise. 

She’d spent years traveling the world with her parents, years of watching over her father’s shoulder as he gingerly revealed evidence of centuries-old human traditions and observing her mother’s nearly inhuman instincts when it came to the oceans. 

Naomi liked to think that she had a little of each parent in her, forged from their respective passions and teachings. And now, at 35 years old and more settled in her skin than she’d ever been before, Naomi knew a few things for certain about this long-abandoned tomb. 

One: The previous inhabitant of this tomb had been a dearly-loved magic user, if the runes were anything to go by. 

And two: This tomb was a  _ very _ heavy decoy designed to obscure the passage hidden below. 

She considered her options, recalled the horrifying vision from last night’s dreams, and gathered her spark to push the tomb aside. “You had better not be full of dead bodies,” she griped, peering down into a deep, dark set of stairs. “This is how the zombie uprising starts, I just know it.” 

Naomi steeled herself and followed the stairs down, down, down, into a well of darkness. She kept a shield wrapped around her skin and used her spark to light the way. Naomi reached the bottom of the stairs, uncomfortably aware of how deep into the earth she now stood, and then braved the long, dark hallway ahead. 

She noticed the sigils- some runes that she knew, other symbols she’d never seen before- painted at eye-level along the hallway. One sigil kept recurring, one she wasn’t familiar with. Still, the power behind the symbol was almost tangible, as if whatever it referred to was so strong that even the runes couldn’t contain it. 

Finally, the hallway opened up into a room so large Naomi’s spark didn’t reach the corners of it. Warm, dusty air filled her lungs with every breath. She noticed the torches along the wall on her right and activated the rune for fire on her thigh. With half a thought, the torches lining the walls of the huge room were lit. 

She nearly fell over in shock at the sight of the lit room. Massive columns stretched high above her head, holding up the marble ceiling. Stashes of relics littered the room, including piles of books twice her height in the corner. 

Naomi carefully descended the wide marble stairs, eyeing the glossy black shine that lined the far wall. There was an enormous shape in the corner, an unrecognizable statue the same glossy black. As if someone had started a project with grand intentions but never finished, leaving an incomplete shape behind. 

She turned left, away from the unmoving shape, and found the far corner with the books. Ignoring the millions of dollars worth of undiscovered treasure behind her, Naomi scanned the titles of the collection. 

Many were in languages she didn’t recognize- which was significant, considering she was fluent in twelve. One in particular caught her attention, high up enough that she had to stretch onto her tiptoes to see the title better.

جهنم.  “Jahannam,” she read aloud . The Persian word for Hell. Grimly, Naomi reached for the book and very, very carefully started to wedge it out of the pile. The stack above the book teetered dangerously and she froze in place until it settled again. “Come on,” she gritted through her teeth. 

The book came free. Naomi stumbled back, pleased, and then looked up just in time for the entire stack to come crashing down in front of her. She froze, feeling as though she’d just made a huge mistake. 

Nothing. 

After a few seconds of echoes from the fallen books, followed by a few minutes of silence, Naomi loosed a breath. “Well, that was lucky.” She brushed centuries worth of dust off of the book cover. 

There was a flurry of movement in front of her. Naomi looked up in time to see a pair of silver-edged eyes gleaming in the dark corner turn a volcanic black, and then everything went dark.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The language Naomi’s family speaks at the beginning is Igbo. Her father is Nigerian, so Naomi grew up speaking both English and Igbo. I couldn't fit that info naturally into this, so this is just fyi


	23. Chapter 23

“Still nothing?” Stiles asked as he joined Darcy in the Hale house library slash war room.

“Still nothing,” Darcy confirmed with a heavy sigh. She leaned back, stretching until her joints popped. “How long have I been working?” 

“Couple hours,” Stiles said. He set a mug of coffee in front of her. “I can take over now.” 

Darcy rubbed her eyes and then passed Stiles the notebook Naomi had sent them. He accepted it, and her pages of notes, with a frown of concentration. “You finished the code in the letter,” he said, impressed. 

“Hours ago,” Darcy said dismissively. “The rest of the time was spent staring at it, trying to figure out what the hell it’s supposed to mean.” 

“Instructions, I bet,” Stiles said thoughtfully. “Or a hint about how to open it.”

“My brain has melted,” she informed him seriously. “Because I cannot for the life of me figure out how to open that notebook using ‘Something we all share.’” 

“’The heart of us,’” Stiles read. “’Us’ as in sparks?” 

Darcy waved a hand in the air. “I  _ tried  _ talking to it. I  _ tried  _ using my spark. I tried everything, including politely asking the book to open.” She slumped down in her chair. “It said no.” 

“’Something we all share’,” Stiles said again. “It  _ has  _ to be our sparks.” 

“But it’s obviously something more specific than that.” Darcy collapsed back in her chair and blinked up at the ceiling. She abruptly realized Bucky had disappeared at some point. “Hey, where’s Bucky?” 

“The girls dragged him out to the yard a while ago,” Stiles answered absently. “They wanted tips.” 

“What kind of tips?” Darcy asked, almost afraid of the answer. 

“What do you think?” Stiles snorted. “Tips from a pro on how to kick someone’s ass. Cora especially.” 

“I’m not even a little bit surprised,” Darcy said with a shake of her head. “Should I go save him?” 

No need, apparently, because Bucky stumbled through the door just then. “The women in your family,” he said, a little out of breath, “are terrifying.” 

“I probably should have warned you,” Darcy said with an apologetic grimace as he dropped to the floor and sprawled out on his back. “They’re kind of ferocious.” 

“And relentless,” Bucky added. “Fast learners, though.”  Darcy snorted a laugh and finished the doodle on her arm. 

Stiles glanced up, likely distracted by the terrible rendition of a dinosaur drawn on her arm, and then froze. “Darcy,” he said, still staring at her arm. 

She looked at him, then back at her drawing. “He’s cute,” she said defensively. “Stupid-looking, yeah, but in a cute way.” 

“Not the dinosaur,” Stiles said impatiently. 

“Dinosaur?” Bucky lifted his head in concern. “We got dinosaurs to worry about now?” Darcy laughed under her breath. 

Stiles made a noise of exasperation. “Your tattoo, Darce.  _ Our  _ tattoo,” he said pointedly. 

Darcy stared blankly at the hypnotizing flame on her arm, inked just a few inches above the drawing. “Oh.  _ Oh.” _ She looked at Stiles, eyes wide. “You think she-” 

“I think she did.” Stiles grinned at her and thumped the book onto the table. “I knew she loved us!” 

Bucky sat up at looked skeptically between them. “I think you two have been cooped up in here for too long.” 

“Not now, Bucky,” Darcy said with an impatient wave of her hand. “We just figured it out!” 

“What if we channel our spark through the tattoo,” Stiles suggested. 

“Use it as an anchor, like the others,” Darcy finished, nodding. “That could be the key.” 

Stiles set the book on the table and stood. “Ready?” He asked. Darcy stood as well, bracing herself on the table. 

“Do it,” she said. Bucky hopped to his feet and came to a stop beside her, watching closely as Stiles channeled his magic first through the spark tattoo on his ankle and then into the runes lining the notebook’s clasp. 

Darcy hissed in surprise when her own tattoo burned hot, lighting a bright gold as Stiles’s did the same. She wondered if, even half a world away, Naomi felt it, too. The link between them, forged from the connection between them that their magics only strengthened. 

Bucky looked down at her, alarmed, but she shook her head. It wasn’t pain- just the flare of something else-  _ someone  _ else, actually. 

“This is brilliant,” Stiles breathed. They watched as the runes glowed a brilliant red-gold. A second later, the clasp fell back, unlocking with a soft ‘click.’ “She’s a fucking genius.” 

“No one else on earth would be able to open it but the three of us,” Darcy said in agreement. “I copied the runes she used over here.” These runes were invaluable, especially when the three of them shared confidential information like what was likely in this notebook. 

“They’ll come in handy,” Stiles said. He flipped the cover back with a flourish and then drooped so dramatically that Darcy almost laughed. “It’s another code.” 

The urge to laugh disappeared. “What? The same one?” 

“No,” Stiles said, running a finger along the cipher. “It’s a different encryption.” 

“What the hell did she find that needed to be so protected?” Darcy wondered. She noticed a familiar sigils at the top of the page and pointed to it. “Look, the same rune again.” 

“Duplicated,” Stiles murmured. “So we have to open it together?” 

“What did you find, Naomi?” Darcy asked quietly. She met Stiles’s gaze and nodded. Together, they channeled their respective magics through the spark tattoos and activated the runes. The writing on the pages, written in Naomi’s messy scrawl, turned the same red-hot gold before fading back to black ink. 

“There’s a lot of general information here,” Stiles said after skimming the first page. He flipped through the pages with a frown. 

“So we just need to put the pieces together,” Darcy said with a brief glance at the boards they’d put up to organize the facts and possibilities. 

“I’ll work on this,” Stiles volunteered. “You’ve been at it all day.” 

Darcy hesitated. “I don’t mind. This is important.” 

“I got it, Darce. Promise I’ll come get you if I find something.” He glanced meaningfully at Bucky. “Go make her eat something. She hasn’t had anything since breakfast.” 

“He’s right, Darcy,” Bucky said. He wrapped an arm around her waist and guided her out of the room with a wink over his shoulder at Stiles. “It’s almost dinnertime, and I still need a shower.” 

“Oh?” Darcy asked, sufficiently distracted. “How about I join you?” 

“You read my mind, doll.” Bucky grinned and whisked her up the stairs. 

She padded back downstairs an hour later with a wet braid, swimming in one of Bucky’s shirts. He was only a step behind her, wearing sweatpants and a soft cashmere sweater she’d bought him a month ago. Because he deserved nice things, despite his self-deprecating arguments. 

“Feeling better?” Laura smirked at them as they entered the kitchen. 

“Much better, thank you,” Darcy said. She refused to be flustered by the knowing grins from the pack- especially after knowing what all  _ they  _ got up to. 

Laura opened her mouth to probably make fun of them again, but Stiles stumbled into the room just then, with shaking hands and a sheet-white face. The pack turned to face him, worried. 

“What is it?” Darcy asked, moving towards him. “What did you find?” 

“The Unseelie Court has been collecting information,” Stiles said numbly. He looked at Darcy with wide, fearful eyes. “Instructions.” 

“What kind of information? For what?” She asked, a horrible certainty creeping over her. Darcy reached blindly for Bucky’s hand and gripped it tightly. 

“Instructions on how to open a Hellmouth,” Stiles said. “And if what Naomi sent us is true, then they already have everything they need to do it.” 

~*~ 

“Hell is real?” Isaac asked. The room, horribly silent up to his question, seemed to darken. Darcy stared sightlessly into her coffee, mind spinning with the information they’d learned. 

“It’s a lower dimension,” Lydia said distractedly. She’d hardly looked up from the notebook since Stiles handed it over. “The Fae realm is sideways, parallel to earth. But Hell is below. Not literally, necessarily, but below nonetheless. It is a dimension much worse than the Fae realm- just romanticized throughout history by humans and religions.” 

“How could opening a Hellmouth benefit the Unseelie Court?” Laura asked. She sat next to Lydia, reading the pages over the banshee’s shoulder. 

“The Fae thrive off of chaos in the human world,” Peter said from where he leaned on the kitchen counter. 

Stiles nodded. “If they sow enough chaos to disrupt the earth, they can cross over.” 

“And then they wouldn’t be locked in their own realm anymore, not if those of us guarding the Fae gates were too busy fighting off whatever crawls out of the Hellmouth,” Darcy said tiredly. 

“The Unseelie Court could cross over and prey on humans without any limitations,” Lydia added. “And we wouldn’t be able to stop them.” 

“Not to mention whatever crawls out of Hell,” Allison said. 

“What about Jane?” Laura asked. “Isn’t she Fae royalty? Could she intervene?” 

“Dr. Foster is Fae royalty?” Bucky asked Darcy quietly. 

She winced. “I’ll explain later,” Darcy said aside to him. She turned to face the gathered pack and looked at Laura. “Maybe. But we’ve only ever dealt with the Seelie Queen. The Unseelie Court is an unknown, so we can’t be sure whether Jane will be stronger than her.” 

“But she’ll be willing to try,” Lydia said assuredly. 

“She will,” Darcy confirmed. “Jane wouldn’t let them get away with something like this, not if she had the ability to stop them. Or even just slow them down.” 

“So what do we do now?” Erica asked, tucked into Boyd’s side. She wound a curl around her finger anxiously. 

Stiles and Darcy shared a considering look. “We start by going back to the map,” Stiles decided. “If we can figure out which convergence they’re going to try and open the Hellmouth at, we can stop them before they finish.” 

“And we send word out,” Darcy added. “To all of our contacts. For information, asking for help if it comes to a fight, but mostly just to get a warning out.” 

“After that, people will know to report suspicious activity back to us,” Boyd said. “We might be able to track the Unseelie Fae’s movements that way, too.” 

“I know a few hunting families I could reach out to,” Allison said hesitantly. “Ones I trust enough to help us and not be dicks about working with werewolves.” 

“Do it,” Darcy said immediately. “We’re going to need firepower.” Allison nodded and left to make the calls.

Laura turned to Talia and Andrew, who’d been silently concerned over the situation. “Mom, Dad, can you start reaching out? Starting with Satomi.” Talia nodded and ran a comforting hand over Laura’s hair before they went upstairs to her office. 

“I’ll call Maya,” Erica volunteered. “And Braeden.” 

Peter cocked his head towards the front door. “Chris is here.” He slipped from the room.

“I’m going to start compiling reports,” Boyd said, standing. “Isaac, give me a hand?” They returned to the war room as Erica slipped outside to call Maya. 

“I’ll divide the rest of us up so everything gets done,” Laura told Darcy and Stiles. “Go work on your map.” 

Lydia joined them, still reading through the notebook. Bucky followed the three of them to the war room, where Boyd and Isaac had appropriated one of the smaller tables in the corner. “Once you get the map up,” Boyd told them, “we’ll start comparing the reports to each convergence.” 

“Narrow it down to the most active,” Darcy said with a nod. “Smart.” Boyd flashed her a grin and returned to his work. 

“You all seem familiar with this,” Bucky murmured as Stiles fiddled with the projector on the ceiling. 

“We’ve had a lot of practice,” Darcy said wryly. “With evil plots and how to stop them.” 

“We’ll write a book one day,” Erica agreed as she returned to the room. “Maya is going to join Braeden. She said to call her once you have something. They’re going to check out the convergences closest to us.” 

“I’m going with them,” Cora said from the doorway. She slung a duffle over her shoulder. “As backup. I’ll let you know when we’re ready to move.” 

Darcy crossed the room and wrapped her in a tight hug. “Be safe.” 

“What exactly does the Unseelie Court need to open the Hellmouth?” She asked after Cora had gone. 

“Power,” Lydia answered. “A lot of it.” 

Realization struck Darcy like a bolt of lightning. She traded glances with Bucky. “What are the chances,” she said in the calmest tone she could manage, “that the witch who killed all those people sent the stolen power to the Unseelie Court?” 

“Oh, shit,” Stiles said. “Oh, _ shit.”  _

“But why?” Isaac asked, bewildered. “What does he have to gain from this?”

“The chance to get rid of sparks,” Darcy said grimly. “Because with the Unseelie Court comes the Ak’ma.” They were silent, considering the implications of Ak’ma running loose in their world. 

“And witches wouldn’t be the least powerful magic-users anymore,” Stiles added. “If sparks were out of the picture.” 

Lydia set the notebook aside and frowned. “Plus, there’s no telling what they’ve promised others like him. They could’ve been collecting power for years now, from hundreds of others.” 

Darcy turned to study the projection on the wall, a map of the ley line convergences across the world. “We can’t rule any of these out, can we?” 

“Some,” Boyd answered. “Based on lack of activity.” He passed her a page of recent reports- deaths, odd accidents, disappearances- and pointed to the map. “Most of the latest activity is around the convergences in the US.”

“And before?” Darcy asked, squinting down at the page. “Oh, great. All around the world.” 

“Probably when they were collecting information and whatever else they needed for the ritual,” Lydia said thoughtfully. Boyd nodded in agreement. 

“So we check the most recent?” Bucky asked as he studied the map. “Work our way backwards?” 

Darcy joined him. “It’s probably our best bet,” she said ruefully. 

“Mississippi, Indiana, and New Hampshire,” Boyd listed. “Those are the top three most active convergences in the last six months.” 

Allison stalked into the room. “I have support from a couple other hunting families. They’ve agreed to help us at the convergence sites.” 

“And if the Fae succeed in opening the Hellmouth?” Lydia asked sharply. 

“They’ve pledged their support,” Allison said. “Regardless of the outcome.” Darcy couldn’t help but be impressed that Allison had garnered so much support from the other hunting families. She was the Argent matriarch, yes, but she was also very young- not to mention part of a werewolf pack. But she had worked hard to earn their respect, and it obviously paid off. 

“We’ll start in Mississippi,” Darcy decided. “And work our way up to the others.” 

After that, the pack managed to be out the door within an hour. Andrew stayed behind, though it killed him to do so. “There must always be a Hale in Beacon Hills,” Talia reminded him. “They need Peter’s knowledge, and I...” Couldn’t leave her pack, now Laura’s, to face this without her. 

“I understand,” Andrew sighed. “Just be safe. And you call me when you know which convergence they’re using.” 

Darcy reached out to Julian, who’d apparently started keeping one of his personal jets in California ‘just in case they ever needed it.’ She was torn between rolling her eyes at his absurd generosity and weeping in relief that they didn’t have to get the entire pack plus Bucky through airport security. 

The pilot was local, but also one of Julian’s men who didn’t blink an eye at the pack climbing into the plane. Darcy sat next to Bucky for the four hour flight. 

“How you holdin’ up, doll?” He asked softly. The rest of the pack shifted anxiously around them as they neared Mississippi, wired for the possible fight waiting for them. 

“What, this?” Darcy asked with a huff of laughter. “Just another Thursday for the supernatural world.” 

“Not this.” Bucky shifted around so he was facing her, blocking her view of the rest of the pack. He lowered his voice. “The thing with Stark.” 

Darcy looked at her hands and tried to compose her face. “I’m fine.” 

“It’s a lot to take in,” he said with sympathy. “Especially with the way he reacted.” Bucky cupped her face and traced his thumb along her cheekbone. “I know that wasn’t what you’d hoped for.” 

“No,” she admitted thickly. “Not exactly.” Darcy stared at the line of his jaw. “But I can’t blame him, really. It did look pretty bad, when put together like that.” 

“Maybe you can still fix things,” Bucky suggested. 

Darcy snorted. “Yeah, if the Fae don’t kill us all first.” 

“That’s the spirit, babe,” Laura said cheerfully from behind them. 

Darcy couldn’t stop her mouth from curving into a smile. “Fuck off, Laura.” 

“Is that any way to speak to your Alpha?” Laura gasped. She flung herself over the top of Darcy’s seat and rubbed her face into Darcy’s hair. 

“It’s how I speak to my sister when she’s being a pain in the ass,” Darcy grumbled. Derek snorted a laugh from the seat beside them, drawing Laura’s attention. 

Darcy tried to suppress the flutter of nerves in her belly when they began their descent. Allison leaned over to tell Darcy, “The Cortez hunting family will meet us outside of the convergence. It’s in the middle of the woods, apparently.” Darcy nodded in thanks. 

“We’ve hardly had any time to prepare,” she said quietly when the plane landed and the pack was trying to fit inside of the three SUVs waiting on the landing strip. “We don’t even know what we’re about to walk into.”

“I’ve done missions with less information than this,” Bucky told her. “Granted, there wasn’t magic involved, but I got out okay."

“My entire family is at risk,” Darcy whispered. She looked up at him, saw the worry concealed in his blue eyes. “If this goes wrong...” 

“Don’t write ‘em off yet,” he said easily. Bucky wrapped an arm over her shoulders and pulled her in. “Let’s see what we’re up against and then go from there.” He pressed a kiss to her hair. 

Darcy stopped before he could nudge her into the car. “James.” He met her gaze and immediately scowled at the expression on her face. “I’ve taken your presence for granted so far, and that’s selfish of me.” 

“Don’t-”

“This is-” She broke off with a defeated laugh. “This is not your responsibility, okay? You don’t have to stay for  _ any  _ of this.” 

“I’m not fucking leaving,” he said flatly. “You said you needed firepower, and I’ve got plenty. Besides that-” He cupped her chin, tilted her head up to meet his eyes. “I love you, Darcy, and that means I ain’t goin’ nowhere. Not now, not ever.” 

“I don’t want you to get hurt,” she said quietly. “Not because of me.” 

“And you need someone to watch your back, doll. Who could possible do a better job of that than me?” He nudged her until she gave in and climbed into the car, squished beside Erica seated on Boyd’s lap. 

“I knew he was a good one,” Erica said smugly. 

“Shut up,” Darcy muttered, but she reached over to squeeze Bucky’s hand in thanks. 

The Cortez hunters seemed wary about the sudden influx of supernaturals, but thankfully kept their weapons holstered. Darcy had dealt with trigger-happy hunters many times before and was  _ so  _ not in the mood. 

They drove to a large, dilapidated house in the woods near the convergence. “Abandoned,” Iliana Cortez explained. “We bought it to use as a safe house.” She stared grimly at the dark forest surrounding them. “Before we realized that it was sitting on top of a convergence.” 

“I appreciate your help,” Darcy told the hunter. She paused beside Iliana on the porch as the rest of the pack entered the house. Bucky lingered in the woods, studying the ground intently. “Especially after learning all the details.” 

“The Hales are good people,” Iliana said with a careless shrug. She ruffled her hair, cut pixie-short. “And Allison helped me with a family issue a while back. I wasn’t gonna say no to her request for help.” She jerked her chin at the house. “It’s nicer inside than it looks, I promise.” 

Darcy nodded as Bucky joined them. He looked up at them from the yard and addressed Iliana. “Have you set up patrols?” 

“Not yet,” she said. “I wanted to send pairs out, a hunter and one of yours.” 

“I’ll help you with that,” Bucky said, leaping onto the porch. 

Iliana squinted at him. “Do I know you from somewhere? You look real familiar.” Bucky just winked at her. Darcy left them to it. 

She started inside, only to be blocked by Stiles. He herded her insistently back outside and around the house with a carefully blank expression. Darcy noticed the wards he’d placed on himself and said nothing until he stopped, closer to the woods than she was really comfortable with, and warded her, too. 

“There was something else,” Stiles said. “A third, smaller passage that had to be unlocked separately, way at the back.” Instead of explaining, he flipped through the pages of the notebook and handed it to her. 

Darcy accepted it after a long look at Stiles. She started to skim it, realized what it was, and then went back to read it slowly. Again and again, until the words began to blur on the page. 

Fear, denial, anger. Darcy battled them back as she read the passage, understood the meaning behind the words. Finally, when she’d settled on numb resignation, Darcy raised her head to stare wordlessly at Stiles. 

The cost of closing the Hellmouth would be everything they had to give- except it would take more than their combined power. Even with Naomi, if she reached them in time, Darcy didn’t think they could do it. Unless… 

“It’s worth a shot,” Stiles rasped. 

“The only one we have,” Darcy said numbly. “Even if it kills us.” 

“Don’t you mean when?” Stiles asked with a grim smile. 

“Yeah,” Darcy said. She stared over at her family, watching as they began to pair off for patrols. “Even when it kills us.” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I keep upping the chapter count, I know, but that's just because my chapters have grown so long. I had to split a couple to make it work. The good news is more content for you guys though! 
> 
> Next chapter will be up on Saturday, from Tony's POV!


	24. Chapter 24

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Aaand I've officially finished writing the final chapter of this, so you guys get an extra update! Next one will be up tomorrow or Sunday :)

**Tony**

Tony could hardly stand the stifled silence in the Quinjet. It put him on edge, had him gritting his teeth in annoyance when he caught the subtle looks traded between the others. 

When he wasn’t kicking the shit out of himself for the situation with Lewis, anyway. Darcy. His  _ daughter. _ It still made his head spin when he thought about it. 

Rogers and Thor, of all people, sat him down after Darcy had straight up vanished in front of his eyes. They explained the basics of the world that lived inside of his own, one he’d never even suspected was there. Magic. Actual magic. And werewolves and vampires and Fae, oh my. 

Fuck, he had a migraine. 

Natasha and Clint sat in the cockpit, flying the team back home after their mission in South America to destroy an active AIM cell that had eluded them for months. Steve and Thor spoke quietly at the back of the jet, blond heads bowed together while Sam examined his wings for damage nearby. 

Tony considered calling Pepper, asking her to cancel the board meeting later today to meet him after they returned. She’d been the voice of reason during his last Darcy-inspired meltdown, about 36 hours previous. Either that or Rhodey, who’d weathered Tony’s immediate drunken spiral after it all came to light like a fucking pro. Which he was, of course, by now. 

Tony sighed and scratched absently at the scar tissue on his chest. It ached, sometimes, phantoms pains that put him right back in that dirty cave where it all started. Tony stared blankly at the Iron Man suit, stored within the briefcase at his feet. 

The intercom crackled to life, Jarvis doing his best to patch a solid connection in the middle of the ocean. “Sir.” 

The team looked around at that, concerned they’d have to turn right back around. Tony set his half-empty bottle of water aside and leaned forward. “Yeah, Jarvis, go ahead.” 

There was a distinct pause. Natasha left Clint to fly the jet, signing an explanation before she joined the rest of them. “You asked for updates on Miss Lewis’s location.” Steve’s disapproving stare burned holes into the back of Tony’s head. 

“And?” Tony asked, wishing he’d kept his earpiece in. 

“Dr. Foster has accepted a video call. Miss Lewis is on the other side of the connection.” 

“Tony-” Steve started, but Tony cut him off. 

“Put it up,” Tony ordered. Jarvis would know to ensure the hack remained unnoticed, and Tony wasn’t going to miss an update on finally figuring out where the hell Darcy was. 

The screens in the Quinjet came to life, showing side-by-side pictures of Darcy and Jane. Jane seemed worried, and for good reason. Darcy looked exhausted, with dark circles under her eyes and an odd expression on her face, like she was trying to keep a neutral expression but couldn’t quite manage it. 

“Lecture me later, Capsicle,” Tony said impatiently when Steve continued to scowl at him. “You can go sit up front if this upsets your sensibilities.” He returned his attention to the video call. 

“-going on?” He caught the end of Jane’s question as Jarvis patched the sound through. 

Darcy sighed and scrubbed her hands over her face. “It’s bad, Jane. So, so bad.” 

“You know what she’s planning?” Suddenly, Jane didn’t seem like the tiny scientist Tony knew and respected. Something in her changed, made her seem dangerous even through a patchy video call. He’d seen a little of that immediately after Darcy had disappeared right before his eyes, the tiny scientist rounding on him with such ferocity that the team had to intervene.

“Yeah. They-” Darcy cut off and shook her head. “I don’t think we can do it alone,” she said to Jane, regret on her face. “I don’t want to ask-” 

“Shut up. I’m coming,” Jane interrupted. “You’re going to need me there, Darcy, I can feel it.” 

Darcy nodded. “We’ve been checking on the most active convergence gates.” Jane sucked in a surprised breath. “Started in Mississippi, but it was deserted. The other one... Well. I’ll tell you the rest of it later. It’s not safe to do so now. Can you get out unnoticed?” 

“They’re all on a mission right now,” Jane told her. “I can leave before they get back. Darce, I think Thor could help us.” 

“Maybe.” Thor frowned at Darcy’s image on the screen. 

“And the rest of them?” Jane asked hesitantly. 

Darcy said nothing for a long minute. She looked down at her hands, expression so hopeless that Tony’s throat grew tight. “It’s not their fight, Jane,” she said eventually. 

“No,” Jane said quietly in agreement. “It’s really not.” 

Darcy cleared her throat. “I’ll send someone to get you. At our checkpoint in the city. Got it?” 

“Got it.” Jane nodded sharply, eyes hard. 

Darcy sighed, grateful. “Be careful, Jane. I’m not sure how close they are to succeeding, but it’s only a matter of ti-” she cut off at the sound of gunfire, far too close to be one of her sentries on the perimeter. 

They watched as she whirled around, taking a few running steps towards the noise.  _ "Fuck. _ Jane, I have to go. Be safe, I'll call when I can." She darted back to the computer. They heard three seconds of shouting, rapid gunfire, and the start of a scream before Darcy severed the connection. 

The Avengers stared at the blank screens in horrified shock. “Jarvis,” Tony choked out. “Did you trace the call?”

“I’m afraid I was unable to do so,” Jarvis said apologetically. Tony thought his heart might be giving out. He swore, loud and long. 

“Bucky’s with her,” Steve said tightly. “He left to-” 

“To what? To join her in whatever goddamned warzone she’s in?” Tony demanded, throwing a hand out at the screen. He spun around. “Jarvis, track Foster.” 

“Sir, I’m afraid she is no longer within my capabilities to monitor,” Jarvis said.  

“What the hell does that even mean?” Tony shouted. 

Natasha cut him off from continuing. “I can track Darcy.” They all swiveled around to face her, save Clint, clueless in the cockpit. 

“How?” Tony demanded. “Are you magic, too?” 

“The opposite, actually,” Natasha said calmly. “Are you going to start acting like an adult now?” Tony clenched his teeth in frustration- Jesus, but he hated not  _ knowing _ things- and finally nodded. 

“Jarvis,” Natasha continued. “I just sent you information on a GPS tracker. Can you locate it?” 

“You put a GPS tracker on Darcy?” Sam asked in a strangled voice. “Do you have one on all of us?” 

“Don’t be ridiculous,” she scolded. “It’s in the necklace I gave her.” Steve pinched the bridge of his nose, exasperated. She refocused on the screen when Jarvis brought up a map of the States and blinked in surprise. “What the hell is in Indiana?” 

“Barton!” Tony barked. “Change course, head to Indiana!” 

“He can’t hear you,” Natasha said mildly. “He took his hearing aids out.” She watched Tony struggle to contain himself for a minute and then sauntered back to the cockpit to pass the message along. 

“Sounds like they could use our help,” Tony told the rest of them. “Suit up.” 

His… his  _ kid _ was out there, fighting fuck knows what. There was a pit in Tony’s stomach because he knew that he was at least partially the cause of the defeat in Darcy’s eyes, the tired slump of her shoulders. 

God, somehow he was already a worse parent than Howard. 

“Why are you doing this, Tony?” Steve asked quietly as the others prepared. “Out of guilt? You heard her, she doesn’t think you need to be there.” 

“Fuck off, Rogers,” Tony said tightly. “She’s my daughter.” The satisfaction in Steve’s eyes only pissed him off. “Yeah, yeah, I said it, admitted it loud and clear, witnesses and everything.” 

“Just makin’ sure you’ve got your head straight before we find her,” Steve said cheerfully. 

“My head’s never straight,” Tony said petulantly, under his breath. “And besides.” He paused, staring blankly at the dark screen where his daughter’s face had been only minutes ago. “I couldn’t live with myself if I did anything less.” 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I’ve seen that last line somewhere before, and it’s ALWAYS made me think of Tony Stark.
> 
> Also, may I propose: Clint Barton spinoff, romance/mystery-novel style, titled “Clueless in the Cockpit.”


	25. Chapter 25

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've written so much it's just absurd at this point. This fic is finished, along with the first three chapters of the one-shot part after this one. I'm gonna ride this wave of productivity as far as I can lol.

“Indiana,” Darcy said glumly. “Who’d have thought?” 

“It’s actually kind of pretty,” Stiles said, cocking his head as he studied the miles of farmland stretching far beyond what they could see. “You’d never guess there’s a portal to Hell lurking underneath it all.” 

“There’s a metaphor in there somewhere,” Darcy said thoughtfully. “But I’m too tired to find it.” 

Stiles snorted a laugh, though he was as exhausted as she. The Mississippi convergence had  been deserted, and by the time the pack arrived at the Indiana convergence, they were battling  a small force of Unseelie Fae trying to keep them back.

The Fae had been unsuccessful in their attempts to stop the pack entirely, but the attacks did  stall them. Enough so that Darcy had a feeling they were too late.

The pack climbed the hill behind them, Darcy and Stiles having briefly left them behind to assess the soon-to-be-battleground. 

“At least it’s not a city,” Stiles said with a weary sigh. “There’s no way we could’ve kept this under wraps otherwise.” 

“The Unseelie Fae have killed everyone in a fifty mile radius,” Darcy reminded him. “That’s going to draw attention soon.” They paused for a moment, trying not to remember the sight of the murdered landowners they’d come across for miles. “Anyway,” she said, trying to remain cheerful, “we can probably just chalk it up to another alien invasion if the humans do find out.” 

“Alien invasions,” Stiles scoffed. “That’s old news by now.” He glanced back, to where Derek stood with Laura and Iliana Cortez, who’d traveled with the pack to help. Darcy ached at the expression on Stiles’s face, knowing that the both of them had precious little time left. 

Stiles turned back, expression blank. Darcy looked over to him. “There’s no one else I’d rather face this with, you know,” Darcy told him. 

Stiles’s stoic expression wavered for a moment before he finally pulled her into a hug and pressed his face into her hair. “Me either, Darce. Me either.” 

“At least… At least we’ve done some good,” she tried, throat tight and eyes burning. Darcy pressed her face into his shoulder and tried to compose herself before the pack grew suspicious.

“Paved the way for the others,” Stiles agreed. “And if Naomi… if she’s still alive, wherever she is, she’ll help them.” They’d heard nothing from her after receiving the information that led them here. Darcy had a horrible feeling in her gut that wherever Naomi had found that information, it wasn’t anywhere that she could have safely left- because otherwise, she would be here with them.  

Darcy opened her mouth to answer, but the ground trembled beneath their feet. Stiles released her and they whirled around, back towards the miles of empty land. 

“Fuck.” Darcy staggered when the earth jerked again, nearly sending her tumbling to the ground. 

“There!” Stiles shouted, pointing nearly half a mile away. 

They watched in horror as the air rippled for a long few seconds and then tore open. The veil shimmered oddly in the bright sunlight as Unseelie Fae poured out of the Fae gate. 

“We can’t keep them contained, not without Jane,” Darcy said tightly. Talia and Cora left the previous day to retrieve Jane from the nearest airport, where she waited with Julian and his plane. 

“It doesn’t matter,” Stiles said bleakly. “She’s already done it.” 

Darcy looked to where he was staring. The Unseelie Queen had crossed over before this gate’s opening, it seemed. Black smoke erupted from the ground, rising through the air as the earth seemed to crumble away, falling inside of itself. 

Her hands were shaking, Darcy noted absently. Bucky had joined her at some point, watching the events unfold with grim resignation. 

Any chance they had at stopping this before it got too far, before it took everything Darcy and Stiles had to give, vanished at the dull roar that had Darcy pressing her hands to her ears to stave off the pressure as the ground gave way. 

The Hellmouth was massive, a swirling vortex of bright-hot power poured into it by the Unseelie Queen, who was only a faint outline in the black steam rising from the portal. Darcy shivered when the figure seemed to sense her gaze and slowly turned around. 

The Unseelie Queen was unsettlingly normal. She had none of the Seelie Queen’s unnatural grace or looks- instead, the Fae Queen appeared to have adapted the form of a small human girl. Only her presence- chilling, so unnatural it had the hair on Darcy’s arms raising- gave away her true nature. 

“What’s the play?” Laura asked from behind them, expression tight and focused. 

Darcy opened her mouth to answer. Before she could speak, a horrifying howl tore through the air, discernible even over the deafening rumble of the Hellmouth. The howl sounded almost like a scream, and it had Darcy’s blood chilling in her veins. 

“What is that?” Bucky asked, raising his rifle. 

A shadow slipped from the Hellmouth, darting so quickly from the cyclone of power that Darcy could barely keep sight of it. Dark smoke whirled around it, solidifying into a massive beast with a wide maw and glowing red eyes. 

“Hellhound,” Stiles breathed. “That’s a Hellhound.” 

The war dogs of Hell, monsters created to hunt and drag their chosen victims into Hell itself. Behind Darcy, the pack readied itself as more shadows tore out of the earth. A cacophony of rabid snarls echoed over the noise. 

Darcy looked at Stiles, who nodded, and then back to her pack. Her family. Her lion-hearted friends. 

“Stiles and I can close the Hellmouth.” Probably. “But we need you to keep the Hellhounds off of us.” Darcy bit back her fear, knowing that these monsters could drag her family into the pits of Hell if they weren’t careful. 

“You got it, Darce,” Laura said with absolute composure despite the approaching demons. She squared her shoulders and glanced over her shoulder at the rest of the pack. “Fight in pairs,” she ordered. “And don’t let any escape. Fight smart, stay safe.” 

And with that they were off, sprinting into the fray. One by one, the pack leaped and shifted in mid-air, lunging without fear at the Hellhounds snapping at them. Derek remained behind, though he shifted into his enormous black wolf, circling Stiles with a dangerous gleam in his eyes. 

“Let’s go,” Stiles said, and led the way towards the Hellmouth. 

The Unseelie Queen had vanished, drifting away in the black smoke still rising from the portal. Bucky stayed close to Darcy, guarding their backs. Darcy heard an occasional shot, from Bucky behind her and the hunters positioned at the edges of the fight. The iron bullets found their mark, dissolving Unseelie Fae that tried their luck against the humans. 

Together, the neared the Hellmouth. Stiles and Darcy shared a solemn, knowing glance before separating. Stiles headed a third of the way around the Hellmouth, remaining a careful distance away from the reaching edges of the portal. Derek followed, bringing down a lurking Hellhound with the help of a quick flash of Stiles’s magic. 

“Will iron work on the Hellhounds?” Bucky shouted over the noise. 

Darcy shook her head. “I don’t know.” She tried not to listen to the snarls and yelps as her family battled the demons back, further away from the two sparks preparing to give their all. 

Out of the corner of her eye, Darcy saw Iliana Cortez draw a slender iron blade and approach a cluster of Unseelie Fae with a confident grin on her face. Allison trailed her, firing iron-tipped arrows at blinding speed. Lydia watched their backs, screaming Fae after Fae into a shriveling mass on the ground. 

Closer to Darcy, Chris and Maya cut through a swarm of Fae. Peter fought another nearby, careful to stay close to Darcy. 

Darcy returned her attention to the Hellmouth. She spotted Stiles, almost invisible through the haze, who was already lit a brilliant gold. Bracing herself, Darcy reached for her spark and let it loose. The column of light around her grew so bright Bucky took an involuntary step back, unable to look directly at the magic. 

They were attacked in such a rapid succession that Darcy barely realized what happened. Bucky was tackled aside by a Hellhound. Darcy was torn back, away from the portal, and thrown to the ground. 

She climbed unsteadily back to her feet. The Unseelie Queen watched her with mild interest from a few feet away. Darcy tried to hide her horror at the sight of her- she faced a small girl, so perfectly human in appearance that Darcy was nearly fooled. Only the manic, solid-black eyes gave the Queen away, along with the sensation of dread creeping over Darcy. 

“Human forms have always fascinated us,” the Queen said. “And they contain the magic so well.” She smiled at Darcy, so casual it was as if they were enjoying a pleasant outing. “Do you like my new form? I copied it off of a-” 

“I am really not interested in hearing the end of that sentence,” Darcy interrupted. Her attention wavered, caught by the faint ripple of movement behind the Queen’s shoulder. She hastily looked away before the Queen could follow her gaze and glanced instead to where Bucky fought with Chris and Peter. 

He was safe, she told herself. For now. The same pocket of air shivered again. Urgency clawed at her, reminding her that the Hellmouth still roared behind her, that shadows still slipped from the portal and dashed away. 

“You sparks are nothing but thieves,” the Queen told her. “Your magic belongs to us.” She smiled widely, revealing bloody teeth when Darcy glanced anxiously back at the portal. “You have no hope of closing this gate, little spark. The amount of power keeping it open is too strong.” 

“You don’t know that for sure,” Darcy said. She inched backwards as subtly as she could. “Or you wouldn’t be here, trying to stop me. But you forgot about one thing.” 

“Oh?” Calm amusement, utterly unconcerned with Darcy’s attempts of distraction. “And what might that be?” 

“I’m not here alone,” Darcy said. There was a familiar tug in the atmosphere. It brought a grin to Darcy’s face as she looked the Queen in the eye and told her, “And the Seelie Queen’s daughter would like to have a word with you.” 

The first true flash of concern dropped the smile from the Queen’s face- just as Jane ripped a Fae gate open and blasted the Unseelie Queen with her magic. “Nice timing,” Darcy said faintly. Jane eyed the Unseelie Queen, who was crumpled a solid twenty feet away. 

Talia and Cora stepped out behind Jane and immediately left to join the fight. “The Fae realm’s a mess,” Jane reported. “But I figured they were so distracted by all this that I could get us here faster.” She threw her arms around Darcy and then jerked away, twisting around to glare at the Queen. “I’ll take care of her.” 

Jane winked at Darcy and then let her glamor drop away as she turned to face the Unseelie Queen, who floated upright again and stared at Jane with an expression of rage. Jane only grinned back at her, a challenge and a warning. Trusting Jane to cover her, Darcy stumbled back to the Hellmouth. 

She tried not to focus on the blinding flashes of power as Jane faced the Unseelie Queen, their magics like two supernovas clashing with catastrophic force. Not that, or the Hellhounds ripping through the portal, attacking her family and Fae alike. And definitely not the Unseelie Fae, still slinking into her realm with bared fangs and evident glee. 

Darcy swallowed hard and reignited her spark. Carefully, she reached forward with her magic, letting it settle over the portal like a net. A scream rose and then stopped before release, trapped in her throat. It felt like burning alive, as if the portal reached underneath her skin and turned her spark into an inferno. She was frozen in place as the Hellmouth tried to tear her apart, to rip the power from her soul. 

Stiles seemed similarly trapped, his spark surging around him in response to the excruciating pain. Darcy had to remind herself to breathe, although inhaling only fueled the blaze inside of her. Frozen, trapped, Darcy could only grit her teeth and double down. She imagined sinking her magic into the earth around the outside of the portal and  _ pulling, _ drawing it closed. 

She felt Stiles’s magic settle over hers and do the same. Darcy felt tears rise and then burn away with the heat inside of her. 

The portal, still trying to widen, slowly stopped making progress. Victory chased away some of the pain, enough that she was able to gasp another breath and brace herself against the next wave. Her knees felt weak, like they might give out any moment. Darcy spread her hands out in front of her, palms down as golden light poured out of her. 

A scream echoed across the battleground. 

It wasn’t human. But it was very, very familiar. Even the Hellhounds paused as the Ak’ma tore through the Fae gate, eyes flashing. The forked tongue dripped from its mouth as it turned instinctively towards the two sparks. 

The unlucky Fae in its path were snatched into the air and tossed aside, left to be drained by the twisted magic of the Ak’ma. A Hellhound snarled a challenge, only to be torn to shreds with those wicked claws in seconds. 

A ball of pure flame was being dragged up Darcy’s throat, as if the Hellmouth was pulling her soul from her very body. She couldn’t let go- because the portal held her tightly, sinking its power into her even as she fought to close it. Blood trickled from her nose from the force of the portal’s sinkhole magic. 

The Ak’ma stalked forward, death incarnate.  

Darcy met Stiles’s helpless, horrified gaze across the Hellmouth and looked back just in time to see the demon lunge for her. She braced for the horrible pain, the drag of those talons down her spine, the length of those fangs sunk into her neck. 

A faint whine, a familiar charge, and a blast so strong that the Ak’ma went tumbling backwards with a gaping hole in its chest. A rifle fired in rapid succession as the demon tried to stand, to let its magic stitch the wound back together. Iron bullets sent it back to the ground, where it did not stir again. 

Darcy looked up. Iron Man descended slowly through the smoke-filled sky, still focused on the demon that Bucky inspected with a few extra bullets. 

Tony landed a few feet away and finally turned towards her after Bucky nodded that the demon was dead. The helmet retracted to reveal Tony, who seemed a little overwhelmed at the sheer magnitude of the ongoing fight. Darcy could only stare at him for a long moment, still lit a bright gold from her magic. 

Absently, she swiped the blood from her nose. Tony’s eyes tracked the movement, then briefly wandered to the open Hellmouth roaring behind her. “Hi,” Darcy said eventually, her voice rough. She cleared her throat and forced herself to look Tony in the eye. 

“So,” Tony said back. “This is some ‘end of the world’ stuff here, it seems.” Darcy huffed a reluctant laugh, still aware of the Hellmouth’s power digging into her, trying to pull her back. She sobered quickly though, knowing this would be the only chance she had to make amends before... Well. 

“I’m sorry, Tony,” Darcy said. Her heart ached for all the time they’d lost, and all that they’d never have. “I should have told you.” 

He was quiet for a moment. “I’ve had people close to me keep a lot of secrets,” he said finally. “But I shouldn’t have treated you like that. I’m sorry, too, kid.” 

Bucky lingered nearby, shooting any Unseelie Fae that dared approach. A deep rumble shook the air, drawing their attention briefly to where Jane and the Queen still fought, only a swirling mass of Jane’s bright-hot magic and the Queen’s ink-like power visible. 

“Jane,” Darcy explained. She felt a smile tug at her mouth at Tony’s dumbstruck expression. “She’s kind of a badass.” 

“I knew that before the magic thing was evident,” he said faintly. Lightning crackled above them as storm clouds rolled in. Thor flew by at lightspeed, barreling towards Jane. 

Darcy saw Steve racing towards them, knocking a Hellhound in its open mouth as Sam darted in from above to help. Clint sought high ground and quickly discovered Allison, calmly shooting her iron-tipped arrows with Lydia guarding her back. 

An Unseelie Fae reached for Natasha, who stepped regally into the fray. She didn’t react to the attempt at glamor. The Fae appeared startled when its magic simply absorbed into the assassin’s skin. Natasha didn’t waste any time, dispatching the Fae with two quick moves. 

“What do you need, Darcy?” Tony asked, turning back to her. 

Bucky stepped closer, reloading. He scanned Darcy’s body with an assessing gaze. “You hurt, doll?” 

Darcy shook her head. “Are you?” 

“Super soldier,” he reminded her. Bucky tracked Steve’s progress with half of his attention. “’M fine.” Peter galloped over, having become entangled in a fight that drew him away from her. Tony eyed the massive red wolf warily. 

“I need time,” Darcy told the three of them. “Stiles and I, we can...” She tried not to notice their gazes sharpening on her when she trailed off a little helplessly. Darcy gathered her composure. “We can close it,” she told them firmly. “We just need time.” 

Tony nodded. “Then call it, kid,” he said with an odd half-smile. 

“You three keep them off of me,” Darcy said decisively. She glanced at Tony. “Can you tell Steve and Sam to watch Stiles’s back?” A wolf, a super soldier, and air support. Yeah, that would definitely give them the time they needed. 

“And Tony-” she said before he took off again. “The wolves, they’re my family. Keep them out of any crossfire.” 

“Done.” The helmet snapped back into place and he took off. Peter darted towards the Hellhound emerging from the portal, snapping its neck before it fully formed. 

“Please be careful,” she told Bucky’s jaw, unable to meet his eyes. Bucky nodded. “And… Bucky. I need you to promise me something.” 

He looked suddenly concerned, stepping closer to her as they ignored the war raging around them. Bucky grabbed her hand when she tried to retreat. “Darcy. What is it?” 

“Promise me that you won’t interfere,” Darcy said. “No matter what happens. Promise you won’t try to help.” 

Bucky paused. “Now, why does that sound like goodbye, doll?” 

“Darcy!” Stiles screamed. She whirled around. “I can’t keep-” He doubled over in pain. 

“I have to go, Bucky,  _ please,” _ Darcy begged. “You can’t intervene. Promise me!” 

“I- I promise,” Bucky said, taken aback by her ferocity. “Doll, what-” 

Darcy blinked back her tears and let her eyes bleed gold. “I have to go.” Her hand slipped from his as she stepped away, back towards the Hellmouth. Stiles fell to his knees and met her gaze through a haze of smoke and pain. 

Darcy reached for her own spark even as her friend’s life drained away. She took a deep breath, resisted the urge to look back, and poured every bit of magic and life she possessed into closing the Hellmouth.


	26. Chapter 26

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I personally hate cliffhangers so I felt bad for leaving it at the last chapter lol. I'm posting this chapter early for you, next one up Tuesday or Wednesday!

Nothing else existed but the inferno raging inside of her and the pain ripping her to pieces.

Darcy’s spark dug in deep, dragging the Hellmouth closed, inch by excruciating inch. The portal fought hard, drawing on all the sacrificed power to stay open. Hellhounds and ghouls, demons and monsters she’d never imagined could exist crawled out of the portal, darting through the thickening smoke faster than she could track.

Time was suspended here, in this burning middle ground- trapped between her own magic and the Hellmouth’s grasp as it tried to lure her closer. Darcy stared sightlessly ahead into the glowing red vortex. She swayed, feeling as though she’d be torn apart by the struggle inside of her.

They weren’t enough.

Stiles fought hard from the other side, but he was flagging from their efforts. Derek’s ears flickered back towards him distractedly as he fought back a Hellhound, likely hearing the way his lover’s breathing labored and his heart struggled to keep beating.

Darcy staggered, coughing, and fell to her knees. She wrapped an arm across her stomach, trying to hold herself together. A scream rose in her throat only to be cut off by her lack of air. She was shaking, only faintly aware of the ongoing war around her.

A gentle hand touched her shoulder.

Darcy had to fight to raise her head, to see who was offering their strength to her. Sara smiled down at her, the rest of her coven positioning themselves between Stiles and Darcy.

The head witch read the question in Darcy's eyes. “We’ve come to offer our own power, limited as it may be,” Sara told Darcy.

“Why?” Darcy rasped, stunned.

“You saved my son’s life, Sentinel Lewis. That’s not something I take lightly.” Sara reached out to grab Tai’s hand beside her. One by one, the coven of witches grasped hands. The angry witch Darcy remembered from before reached down to hold Stiles, circling a third of the Hellmouth and completing the chain.

Their offered magic, while nothing compared to a spark’s raw power, was still a blessed relief. It trickled through her like rivulets of water, cooling the rising heat inside of Darcy. She gasped for air until her lungs ached, grateful for the reprieve.

“Witches willingly helping a spark,” Darcy coughed. She tasted blood in the back of her throat and wrinkled her nose in disgust. “Never thought I’d see the day.”

“Times are changing,” Sara said tightly, sweat running down her face from their efforts. “I never thought I’d meet a spark worth helping, and yet here we are.”

“Closing a portal to Hell,” Tai muttered. “Because sure, that’s normal.”

Darcy’s laugh was more of a huff of air, too exhausted to do much more. It was taking all of her effort to not fall flat on her face. “When the link between us weakens,” Darcy said quietly, “you have to break the connection.”

Sara’s brow furrowed. “What are you talking about?”

“Closing the Hellmouth.” Darcy curled her fingers into the ground to steady herself. “We... It’s going to take everything we have to give.” The hand on her shoulder tightened when the implication hit Sara. Darcy swallowed and continued. “Once I start to weaken, you have to break the link, or it’ll take all of you as well.”

“That can’t be-”

“It’s the only option,” she said tiredly. “Stiles and I know that. We think that... since it’s a willing sacrifice, it will be enough to close the portal.” Darcy gritted her teeth so hard she could feel her jaw protest and shakily climbed to her feet. Stiles did the same.

Darcy swayed a little but managed to stay upright. The Hellmouth was slowly, _slowly_ drawing closed. She already felt so drained, though, her magic straining with the effort to fight the portal’s attempts to stay open.

 _“No._ I’m sure we can-” Sara froze when Darcy did. They both turned back towards the Hellmouth with glacial slowness as the portal rumbled dangerously. There was a series of pulses, like the power used to hold the Hellmouth open surged outwards with a greedy lunge.

Realization hit Darcy at the same time it did the others. “Back, get back!” They scrambled back, too slow-

The Hellmouth exploded wide open. Darcy and the others were thrown back with the force of the blast, landing twenty feet from the new edge.

Dread pooled in her stomach as Darcy watched the monster now climbing out of the Hellmouth. Time seemed to slow as it clawed its way out of the portal.

The beast was huge, somehow growing larger with each inch of freedom it claimed from the portal. Two horns curled back from each side of its head, with a smaller row of spikes protruding from impenetrable skin along the top of the monster’s head.

The monster’s shoulders rose above the ground, then higher, revealing four thick arms with three claws at the base of each limb. Larger spikes decorated its wide back, jutting out of grey, leathery skin. Its eyes were tucked underneath the thick plated skull, fathomless red pits that took in the scene around it. The monster’s sheer mass seemed to suck all the light from the sky.

“Leviathan,” Tai said faintly. “It’s the Leviathan.”

“It’s the _what?”_ Darcy asked, incredulous.

“It _looks_ like a fucking kaiju,” Stiles said as he stumbled over to help Darcy stand.

Tony landed heavily beside them, looking rough for wear. “What the fuck is that,” he said flatly. “And how the hell are we supposed to kill it?”

“I’m not sure we can,” Darcy said faintly. Jesus, now would have been a really good time to have a Hulk. She noticed Steve and Bucky nearby, tearing through a cluster of Unseelie Fae like they’d been born to do it. Sam spun by them in the air, heading off a Hellhound stalking the two super soldiers.

Darcy looked around, hopelessness clawing at her. The black smoke from the Hellmouth had filled the battlefield now, giving cover to the Fae and Hellmouth spawn fighting her faltering pack. Stiles leaned heavily against her, battling the same feeling as though they’d already lost.

The spark tattoo on Darcy’s wrist grew warm.

She nearly fell over again in her haste to look up, around, hope rising even as the Leviathan continued climbing into their realm and released a bone-rattling roar. “Stiles.” Darcy gripped his wrist tightly when the smoke cleared to a haze.

Naomi strode through the hazy black smoke, eyes lit a furious gold.

A stranger followed her closely, silver eyes merely curious despite the carnage around him. He was shorter than Naomi by a few inches with a deceptively slender frame that belied the depth of the magic curled inside of him.

The Unseelie Fae turned their attention to Naomi, their Queen still locked in violent battle with Jane. Naomi hardly acknowledged the Fae creeping dangerously towards her, unworried- because, as Darcy and Stiles watched, breathless and awed, the tips of the wings tattooed on Naomi’s back burned a bright red through her shirt.

The stationary bird on Naomi’s back stirred to life. Her anchor and her animal tattoo fused into one and peeled off of Naomi’s dark skin with a graceful sweep of its wings. It drifted through Naomi's shirt and lazily into the air, a burning red beacon through the black haze.

“Did we know she could do that?” Stiles said out of the corner of his mouth.

Darcy squinted at Naomi’s dumbfounded expression. “I don’t think _she_ knew she could do that.”

The bird seemed to burn brighter every second, eyes as gold as Naomi’s below it. With a powerful sweep of its gold-tipped wings, the bird soared through the sky. The closest Unseelie Fae, the ghouls and demons and Hellhounds, all ran for cover.

The bird drifted closer, igniting the demons and Fae below it with a pure flame. The coven murmured between themselves with wide eyes, torn between staring at the phoenix soaring above and then spark stalking towards them.

Their collective awe was shattered when the Leviathan screamed in challenge again.

Naomi reached them just then, barely acknowledging the monster bellowing above them. She cupped her hands around Darcy’s face and studied her closely, noted the tear stained face and shell-shocked eyes. “You did good,” Naomi told her, gold eyes serious and intent on hers. She slid a hand to squeeze Stiles’s. “You both did.”

“We couldn’t close it, though, not without...” Stiles swiped a hand over his eyes.

Naomi shook her head. “You held the line, and I’m so proud of you for holding out this long.”

“How are we supposed to stop that thing?” Darcy asked, trying not to let her hopelessness show. “Naomi, the Hellmouth- we can’t-”

“Got it covered, hon. Just breathe for a minute.” Naomi let Darcy lean into her for a moment.

She turned to the stranger, who was watching the three of them with feline curiosity. The man had an olive complexion and black hair, with full lips and a prominent nose. Middle Eastern, Darcy guessed from his looks, probably from wherever Naomi had traveled last. Absently, she noted that he was also extremely good looking.

Stiles made a noise low in his throat when he met the man’s silver eyes, drawing Darcy back towards him. She was too tired to protest. “Well?” Naomi demanded. The man squinted up at the Leviathan as it crushed a Hellhound in its fury.

He shrugged. “I have never fought a Leviathan before. Well...” He cocked his head thoughtfully. A slow smile spread across his handsome face. “Maybe once.”

“Did you win?” Stiles asked skeptically. He only got a silver-eyed wink in response.

“Go do your thing, then,” Naomi commanded. “Kill it, shove it back into the portal, whatever. Just give us time to close the Hellmouth again.”

The man didn’t seem offended by Naomi ordering him around. Instead, he pressed a hand to his chest and bowed to her. “For you, Sentinel Okoro, anything.”

“Oh, fuck off, Vahid.” He only laughed in response.

“Um.” Darcy watched as the man- Vahid, apparently- strode confidently towards the Leviathan.

Tony, lingering by the group with Peter shifted at his side, watched in alarm. “Should we stop him? He can see Godzilla’s uglier cousin stomping around over there, right?” Peter huffed a wolf’s laugh.

“Just wait,” Naomi murmured with a knowing smile. She had a satisfied gleam in her eyes that put Darcy on edge. Stiles saw it, too, and shifted nervously. They both knew Naomi well enough to be wary of that expression.

Vahid stopped thirty feet away from the Leviathan and stared up at it for a long moment. Darcy nearly gasped aloud when Vahid turned to the side as he tracked the beast’s movements. A massive shape lurked behind him, as if his shadow were for some great beast instead of the slim man that stood on the battlefield.

The tension ratcheted up.

A deep rumble. The Leviathan turned towards Vahid. The great shadow behind Vahid twisted, rose higher- and Vahid vanished.

No, Darcy realized a second later. Not vanished.

_Shifted._

The dragon uncoiled its long body, black scales glinting in the sunlight. Its dark scales glowed a muted red from within, lit by the overwhelming heat emanating from the dragon’s form. The dragon- _Vahid-_ faced the Leviathan and roared so loudly the earth trembled.

“Oh my god,” Darcy breathed. She saw Steve and Bucky turn out of the corner of her eye. Steve dropped the shield in shock at the sight of the dragon. The werewolves all skidded to a halt, battered and bloody, to peer up and up and up.

“You always have the most interesting friends, Darcy,” Tony said in a strangled voice.

“You found a _dragon?!”_ Stiles howled.

“I accidentally _stole_ from a dragon, smacked him in the face with a pile of books and woke him up from a centuries-long nap, and then convinced him to help us,” Naomi said shortly. “Blah, blah, blah, who cares. Would you two _focus?!”_

They could only stare at Vahid as he snaked his head forward and tore off one of the Leviathan’s arms. It landed entirely too close to them for Darcy’s tastes, leaking a disgusting green fluid. “Gross,” Stiles said mildly in apparent agreement.

“Hello?!” Naomi shouted. “The Hellmouth?”

“Fuck!” Darcy and Stiles scrambled over to the portal with her, followed cautiously by the coven. Naomi studied it for a moment, nearly deafened by the dull roar of the cyclone.

“We tried casting over it already,” Darcy shouted. “To pull it shut.”

Naomi shook her head. “That won’t work,” she yelled back. “It’s too strong, it’ll just pull you into it.” Stiles and Darcy grimaced at each other. That’s exactly what had happened to them earlier. “Each of us take a third of the portal,” Naomi instructed at the top of her voice. “We’re going to push it closed!”

The Leviathan screamed in rage somewhere above them, only to be cut short by the long, muscled tail slamming into its gut. It staggered back, closer to the portal.

“We’ll lend you what we can!” Sara shouted to Naomi, who nodded.

Darcy spread her spark along the outer edge of the whirling Hellmouth, stopping when she bumped into Stiles’s and Naomi’s magics. Sara rested her hand back on Darcy’s shoulder. Tai was on the other end of their line this time and grasped Stiles to complete the connection. Together, the coven bolstered the exhausted sparks enough that they were able to start again.

The force of Naomi’s spark was deeper than Darcy could have imagined. Her added efforts provided enough power that, together, they were able to start pushing the Hellmouth closed.

“Vahid!” Naomi shouted. As they pushed the portal shut, inch by inch, the power keeping it open centralized and grew more volatile. “Now would be the time to finish up!”

Darcy wondered how the fuck Naomi was so composed, speaking as if she were mildly inconvenienced instead of battling a portal to Hell. The older spark’s shaking form belied the casual tone, though. Darcy sympathized- she had lost track of her own body’s condition long ago.

Tony launched himself back into the sky to help drive it towards the portal. He flew around the Leviathan’s head like an irritating gnat, shooting it in the face every time it tried to attack Vahid. The monster reached into the air, trying to swat Tony away. Darcy’s heart lurched every time the Leviathan came close to knocking him out of the air.

Vahid roared, drawing the Leviathan’s attention just as the dragon slammed into it. The Leviathan bellowed, enraged, only to be met with a face full of fire streaming out of the dragon’s open mouth.

Darcy and Naomi edged carefully aside as the Leviathan staggered backwards, unsteady. Vahid reared up, massive wings spread wide enough to darken the sky above them, and clawed the Leviathan across the face.

The Leviathan fell backwards into the whirling Hellmouth.

Darcy stumbled, nearly fell, but managed to keep her feet as the monster was sucked back into the narrowing portal and dragged back down. Vahid roared again, triumphant.

“Now!” Naomi screamed.

The spark tattoo on Darcy’s wrist throbbed a second before golden magic exploded out of the three sparks. The coven fell back, unable to maintain the connection without being burned alive from the inside out.

A wall of raw power, anchored in the ground behind them, rose towards the clouds, reaching higher and higher with every passing heartbeat. Darcy felt blood trickling from her nose again, felt as though a raging lightning storm was trapped inside of her chest.

The magic surged around her, leaving Darcy so dizzy she could barely locate Naomi and Stiles, inside of the column of magic with her. She looked up, to the sky, but could only see the magic stretching high above.

The Hellmouth lay at their feet. Darcy could feel it flickering, losing the power that held it open. She gritted her teeth and redoubled her efforts, though exhaustion seemed to be dragging her down.

Naomi and Stiles turned to face her, irises burning as gold as the column of power around them. The three of them exchanged a long look. The energy in the air intensified.

Darcy had to fight to remember how to breathe. She’d thought her magic depleted, worn out by the earlier struggle. Maybe it was Stiles and Naomi, standing tall across the portal. Maybe Vahid lurked outside, channeling his own magic into theirs.

Or maybe she had never found the depths of her magic before this moment. Maybe she had never known what she- no, _they,_ were truly capable of.

Whatever the true answer, the only thing that mattered was the force of the magic intensifying around them. The Hellmouth shrank further, still struggling against the sparks closing in on it. The dueling powers clashed, compressed into the narrowing space with the sparks locked inside. Darcy didn’t understand how the magic wasn’t exploding outwards as it surged against the containment.

Darcy heard every heartbeat in her ears, so loud that her head ached with it. The column shrank further, and the space inside of it was filled with their magic. Darcy didn’t know where her spark ended and the others began. They were woven so closely together that it didn’t matter, not when their magics rose higher and higher towards some unknown goal.

There was a pause. The air felt stretched thin, like a rubber band pulled too far.

The Hellmouth, hardly four feet across now, struggled feebly as it sensed what was coming. Darcy looked up when the others did. She _felt_ more than saw the power reach the top of the column of magic. She felt the magic collect, draw together at the top.

And could only brace herself when the top of the column collapsed inwards and came hurtling down towards them.

Naomi seemed unafraid, throwing her arms out and leaning back to watch their combined magic speeding down from the sky. Stiles and Darcy looked up to do the same. Only a breath before impact, Darcy was aware of a massive shadow encircling the column of power from the outside.

And then the magic slammed into the earth.

A shockwave rippled out from the center of impact. The earth threatened to tear itself apart, swelling like waves in a storm before settling again. Darcy felt the magic rip through her as she stood strong, refusing to lose any ground.

She needn’t have worried, because the Hellmouth was blasted directly in its center by the meteor of power. It fractured, crumbling in on itself, and finally, _finally_ closed.

Darcy fell to her knees, too exhausted to remain standing. Stiles dropped beside her, breathing hard. Naomi sat down hard, arms draped over her knees as she fought to catch her breath.

With the column of power gone, Darcy realized that Vahid had curled around them before the impact of the magic to prevent the worst of the blast from escaping.

“The backlash could have killed you,” Naomi said, her head drooped as she stared at the ground between her braced feet. “That wasn’t a good idea.”

Vahid slowly uncoiled his long, warm body, just far enough to swing his giant head around to peer at the three of them. Silver eyes blinked at Darcy for a moment before he moved to bump Naomi gently in the side. She swayed.

“Knock it off, you stupid lizard,” Naomi said tiredly. Stiles’s eyes nearly bugged out of his head. Vahid, however, seemed delighted with the insult. He shifted back, still fully clothed.

Darcy winced as the wing covering them disappeared and she got an eyeful of the bright sun overhead.

“Everything hurts,” Stiles groaned from beside her. She nodded in agreement.

“It’s done,” Naomi told them as Vahid helped her stand. “We closed it.”

“And we’re still alive,” Darcy said numbly. “That’s a welcome surprise.”

“What?” Tony said from behind her. “What did you just say?”

She felt her shoulders droop even further in exhaustion. Naomi must have seen it, because she eyed Tony a little dangerously and said, “Without a third spark, the attempt to close the Hellmouth would have killed them both.” She glanced apologetically at Stiles and Darcy. “I tried to get here sooner.”

Stiles waved a hand lazily through the air. “Doesn’t matter, you brought a dragon with you.”

“You’re totally excused,” Darcy agreed. Vahid blinked down at them, pleased.

“You were planning to die for this?” Tony asked, features drawn tight. “Without saying a goddamn word to anyone?”

“Says _you,_ Mr. Self-Sacrifice,” Darcy shot back. She’d watched him fight in New York, had seen the truth of Tony Stark in all those nights spent in his lab, talking and drinking.

Stiles snorted. “Like father, like daughter, huh?” He noticed Darcy’s incredulous stare. “What? I overheard you and Peter talking about it, made an educated guess.”

Darcy opened her mouth to answer but was nearly bowled over by a yellow she-wolf. Boyd slammed into them a second later, taking them both to the ground. Erica shifted back and yanked Darcy into a hug, tears welling in her eyes.

“We thought you were dead,” Erica sobbed into Darcy’s shoulder. Tony seemed a little dumbfounded at the sight of the shift, looking away from all the naked skin on display.

Boyd shifted back as well, letting Erica pull him into the hug. “Are you hurt?” Darcy asked, trying to visibly scan for injuries.

“We’re okay,” Boyd said tiredly. “Nothing that won’t heal.”

Stiles was up and spinning around, looking for Derek. He caught sight of the black wolf headed his way and took off running towards him.

The rest of the ‘wolves reached them, streaming in around Tony, who still watched Darcy with an unreadable expression on his face. Bucky reached them a moment later and sprinted over to her. He tugged Darcy up, touching her with a frantic urgency.

“You’re alive,” he said breathlessly. “You’re okay.”

“I’m okay,” Darcy confirmed, and dropped her gaze to his battered kevlar vest. “You’re bleeding,” she said numbly.

Bucky gently batted her hands away. “’S fine, doll, I promise.” Darcy could only stare blankly at the ripped material. She couldn’t heal him anyway- she was empty. Her magic totally gone, only a horrible nothing inside of her chest.

Naomi rested a hand on her shoulder. “It will come back,” she said gently. “You just need rest.”

“Darcy!”

She looked up, around, and lunged out of Bucky’s grip to crash into Jane as the Fae sprinted towards her. “Jane!”

“Holy fuck, that was a lot of magic,” Jane said with a short laugh.

“You- did you win?” Darcy pulled away to stare at her friend.

Jane gave her a crooked smile and a casual shrug. “I did. You’re looking at the new Unseelie Queen,” she said, nonchalant. “My mother came through a gate about ten seconds after I killed the Queen.”

“Oh, boy. Are you the ruler of the entire Fae realm now?” Darcy asked.

“I sent her back,” Jane said. “Tossed her back into their realm and locked her out of ours.” She shook her head. “I don’t know if I’ll keep the title, though.”

“The Unseelie Fae are going to need a full time Queen to manage them,” Darcy agreed. “You deserve to be with your stars, not locked up with those psychos.”

“I’ll figure it out later,” Jane said. “But right now, we have one hell of a mess to clean up.”

“Yeah,” Darcy sighed. She leaned into Jane for another moment, gathering the dregs of her strength. No time for rest, not with the other escapees from the Hellmouth potentially roaming around. Then again- “But maybe a nap first?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, so this was the point I could have brought in Banner/Hulk, blah blah blah. I just really wasn’t feeling it. And let’s be real, a dragon is wayyyy more exciting. (Plus I’m trying to add some diversity here, because canon characters for both sides of the crossover don’t try very hard to do so.)


	27. Chapter 27

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am now EIGHT chapters ahead, so have another update

Darcy stirred sometime before the sun rose. She squirmed around, legs trapped under the tangle of wolves at the foot of the bed, and tucked her face back into Bucky’s chest. She dozed a little while longer before she got too warm again and gave up on sleep. 

Bucky lifted his head blearily when she slid out from under his arm. “Shh,” Darcy said softly. “Go back to sleep.” She pressed a kiss to his cheekbone and smiled when he mumbled something unintelligible in response and dropped his head back to the pillow. 

None of the wolves followed her, though Boyd lifted his head to watch her go. Scott and Isaac, curled around Kira on the other bed, didn’t notice when Darcy crept by their bed to the door. Jackson was with Danny in the room across the hall, where Talia remained shifted. 

Danny had remained behind for the fight, holed up in this small inn- its owners killed by the Unseelie Fae long before the fight- to monitor any potential witnesses’ online chatter. Kira and her mother guarded him, fighting off the odd stragglers that made it to the inn. 

Darcy stepped quietly down the stairs, careful not to wake any of her friends and family scattered throughout the rooms of the silent inn. Silver eyes blinked at her from the open front door, where Vahid kept guard. He winked at her when she smiled at him, relaxed against the porch column. Naomi was curled up in a porch chair nearby with a cup of tea and lifted her hand as Darcy passed them. 

Naomi’s tank top revealed the red-gold wings peeking over her shoulders, where the phoenix had settled back onto her skin after the battle. 

They’d spent the rest of the day and night with the pack, Avengers, and other hunters working in shifts to pick up the pieces. Hiding the evidence of a fight that intense and widespread was a challenge. 

In the end, Vahid lit most of it on fire. They left behind a field of ashes eerily reminiscent of the Fae realm. 

Darcy headed for the kitchen, hoping to scrounge up a cup of coffee. She jerked to a stop at the sight of Tony, hunched over the table and staring blankly into a mug. Darcy hesitated and then, annoyed with herself, walked into the kitchen. 

“You’re up early,” she said quietly. Tony’s head snapped up. He watched her shuffle through the cabinets until she found another mug, looking drawn. 

“Couldn’t sleep,” he said eventually. “Too worried about everything I don’t know.” 

Darcy found the coffee pot and poured it into her cup. “I get that.” 

Tony studied her as she sipped the coffee and leaned back against the counter, facing him. “I’m, uh, also having some regrets.” 

“I also get that,” Darcy said with a small smile of understanding. “I guess we both fucked up.” 

“I guess so.” Tony propped his elbows on the counter and met her gaze. “But mostly me.” Darcy looked away. Tony didn’t. “Darcy. I’m sorry, for the way I reacted.” 

“It’s okay,” Darcy said. “I’d kept the whole supernatural secret from you for so long, even when your own team knew about it. It was a shitty way to find out.” 

“That... Was not ideal, no.” Tony rubbed a hand over his face. “I have trust issues, in case you haven’t picked up on that. But you didn’t deserve that, not even with the supernatural secret.” 

Darcy huffed a laugh. She rubbed her thumb over the rim of the mug, sobering. “The rest of it... You don’t owe me anything, Tony. I don’t expect anything at all from you, not money or any sort of official recognition.” She frowned when his face clouded over. “What? I thought you’d be happy to know I’m not trying to take advantage of the situation.” 

Tony’s brows drew down in an unhappy line. “Look, Darcy, I think I should clarify a couple things here.” 

“You don’t have to-” 

“I do,” he interrupted. “I really, really do.” He leaned forward, dark eyes serious. “Here’s the thing. I’ve never wanted kids.” Darcy tried to conceal her startled flinch. Tony looked down at his hands, mouth drawn into a tight line. “Because my own parents... Well. I loved them, but they weren’t great parents. I’ve always been afraid of ending up like them. Like Howard especially.” 

He swallowed hard. “Turns out I’m worse than him, though, because I was partying nonstop while you were being hunted across the country by a psychopath.” 

“There’s no way you could have known,” Darcy said gently. 

“Your mom tried to contact me. Did you know that?” Tony couldn’t meet her eyes when she stared at him in shock. “Yeah. Called SI and tried to get in touch. About you, I assume. You’d have been three or so.” 

“You... you never talked to her?” She couldn’t imagine her mother swallowing her pride long enough to reach out to a young Tony Stark, even with an Argent on her trail. 

“No,” Tony said shortly. “But, as it turns out, all calls from women claiming I’d gotten them pregnant were transferred to Obie to determine the legitimacy of the claim.” 

“Obadiah Stane,” Darcy breathed. She shivered a little, pulling her arms in defensively. Tony noticed. Guilt flickered across his face, then disappeared again. 

“Jane informed me- very loudly, I should say- that he was a hunter. I knew he was running weapons, I figured that out after Afghanistan, but I never realized the extent of his network.” Tony shook his head with a wry smile. “I’m assuming that Stane watched your mother very closely for a while. I’m  _ also  _ assuming that he eventually put Kate Argent on your trail.” 

“That... that would make sense,” Darcy said. Tony closed his eyes for a moment, defeated. Darcy couldn’t help her step forward, her reaching hand. Tony jerked when Darcy’s fingers settled over his own. “What’s done is done, Tony. There’s no use letting them hurt us again. Not now.” He just stared at their hands. “Not when we’re both alive and well, despite their best efforts. The fuckers are dead, and they’re going to stay that way.” 

“Are you an optimist?” Tony squinted suspiciously at her. “No child of mine could be an optimist, that’s just not possible.” 

“Not me,” Darcy said. “But I  _ am  _ a little vindictive.” 

“There it is,” Tony said, a smile tugging at the corners on his mouth. “That’s the Stark blood showing.” Darcy gave a quiet laugh. The moment stretched out, soft and tentative. Tony watched her for a moment. “I want to try, Darcy,” he said. “I do want to have a relationship with my kid, even if it is too late.” 

“It’s not,” Darcy told him. “Too late, I mean.” She felt a little raw, though whether it was from the conversation or her drained spark she didn’t know. But she could feel it- both the little flame inside of her and the tentative hope stretching between her and Tony. 

Tony glanced at the den, where a wolf padded in the door, back from patrol. “Even though you’ve already found a family?” He asked with a joking smile, but she could see the uncertainty in his eyes, the way he shifted as though afraid of her answer. 

“I have found one, yeah. A great one,” Darcy told him. “But I think they would like you, too, if you wanted to be a part of it.” There was a vulnerability in his expression that kept her from saying anything further about the topic. “For now, though, just enjoy the peace and quiet. It probably won’t last much longer.” 

They sat in the quiet kitchen, sipping coffee and sharing the moment together. 

~*~

“You’ve got to be  _ fucking _ kidding me,” Jane said flatly. Darcy echoed the sentiment from a few feet away, staring at the figure striding briskly down the ramp of the plane. 

“I thought you said he died,” Bucky said lowly to Steve, who was staring in shock. Fury and disbelief warred on his face, though it was only an echo of Tony’s rage-filled expression. 

“I suppose congratulations are in order,” Phil Coulson said casually. “I see you’ve all made it through the fight in one piece.” 

Darcy glanced up and around, searching for Clint and Natasha. They were nowhere to be seen, probably still scouring the miles of farmland for the Hellmouth’s remaining escaped monsters as the rest of them tried to finish covering the evidence of the fight. 

“Agent K,” Darcy said in a careful greeting. “And here I actually believed them when they said Loki killed you.” 

Tony was positively vibrating with the force of his anger. Steve wrapped a reassuring hand around the other man’s forearm, holding him in place. 

“We should’ve known better than to trust a word SHIELD had to say,” Jane said, crossing her arms. “And where have you been all this time, hmm?” 

Coulson gave her a polite smile. “Tahiti,” he said, and then seemed puzzled by his own response. 

_ “What?” _ Jane asked, baffled. 

There was a heavy metal clang from behind the group. Everyone turned to see Clint and Natasha standing frozen in place, staring at Coulson in disbelief. 

“You’re alive?” Clint whispered. He didn’t react when Natasha snatched two pistols from her belt and leveled them at her former handler. Coulson didn’t either, eyes trailing over Clint’s face with something akin to regret on his expression. 

“Barton, Romanoff,” Coulson said evenly. Clint flinched. Natasha moved so she was in front of him, weapons trained on Coulson. 

“Who are you?” Natasha demanded. 

“I can assure you that I am still me, Agent Romanoff,” Coulson said. 

“Bullshit,” Clint spat. “We  _ buried  _ you. I watched them put you in the ground!” 

“Fury lied to us,” Tony realized. “The whole damn time.”

Steve’s expression darkened. “He needed to give us something to bring us together.” 

“I do not appreciate this manipulation,” Thor said, drawing to his full height and scowling. 

Tony scoffed. “Why I ever expected better of SHIELD, I don’t know.” He jerked his arm out of Steve’s grasp but didn’t walk away. 

“Why are you here?” Darcy asked. “Why now, when you could’ve continued living as a dead man?” 

Coulson folded his hands in front of himself, ever the picture of composure. Jane looked like she was itching to start throwing punches, so Darcy edged slightly in front of the Fae. “This event was brought to my attention 24 hours ago,” he explained. “We’ve already concocted a cover story for any witnesses to the event.” 

“So you came to help us clean up?” Darcy asked somewhat hopefully. 

“No, Miss Lewis. I came to offer you a job.” 

Darcy could only blink at him, bewildered and a little pissed off. Jane growled low in her throat, furious, echoed by a couple of the pack behind them. Before she could speak, Tony snorted a laugh. They all turned their attention to him. 

“Yeah, no. You can’t have her.” Darcy stared at him. Tony ignored her and continued, “You think any of us trust you enough to send Darcy with you? No. No way in hell. She’s too important, and you don’t deserve her help.” 

“Wow, talk about a 180,” Jane muttered to Darcy, who elbowed her. 

“There are threats out there that must be addressed,” Coulson said patiently. “Threats that Miss Lewis is uniquely qualified to handle. Threats like the creatures that escaped that portal yesterday.” 

Darcy scowled. The sheer magnitude of the fight meant that many of those monsters escaped from the battle. She was a little afraid to find out how many now roamed the earth. And while Jane had banished the Unseelie Fae back to their own realm, there was no way to account for the ones that slipped away before the end of the fight.

So yes, she agreed with Coulson in that the monsters had to be tracked down. Tony glanced over and must have assumed her expression meant that she was considering the offer, because he stepped forward to disrupt her line of sight to the former agent and said, “No. If you’re going to do it, then it’s going to be through SI Security.” 

Even Coulson looked surprised. 

“What?” Darcy managed. 

“I’m in the know now, kid. And you’ll be hunting down these things anyway, so actually-” he shot Coulson a dark look-  _ “I’m _ offering you a job.” 

“A job,” Darcy repeated. 

“Yes. We’ll put together a team, maybe a couple of ‘em, to track down the escaped demons. You’ll lead them, obviously, but you’ll be working for Stark Industries and not-” another suspicious glare at Coulson- “whoever the hell he works for.” 

“SHIELD,” Coulson said with a bland smile. “The new SHIELD.” Natasha’s fingers tightened on the triggers. Clint laid a hand on her shoulder and said something too low for the rest of them to hear. She didn’t move for a long few seconds but finally lowered the weapons. 

“Wow, I’m definitely out, then,” Darcy said with a short laugh. Tony smiled smugly at Coulson like the six year old he was. “I made Jane a promise years ago to never cooperate with you guys.” Jane smiled, shark-like, at Coulson. 

“I can give you time to consider the offer,” Coulson started. 

Darcy held up a hand. “No way, dude. Where Jane goes, so goes my nation. Also, really? You return from the not-so-dead with a job offer and barely even acknowledge your own team? I don’t want any part of an organization that works like that.” 

Coulson’s gaze flicked guiltily towards Natasha and Clint. They watched him back, impassive. But Darcy knew them well enough to see the careful neutrality to their expressions, the deliberately relaxed body language, the horrible emptiness behind their eyes. 

Clint took one long, final look at Coulson- something like longing in his eyes that was quickly snuffed out by the betrayal again- and then turned to leave. Natasha followed him without a word. 

“Anyway,” Darcy said, drawing Coulson’s attention back to her. “Good to see you, I guess. Also, sorry about all those things we said about you behind your back.” 

“And to your face,” Jane said, not looking sorry at all. 

“But we are glad you’re alive,” Darcy finished. Mostly, anyway. She couldn’t be too fond of anyone that put that sort of look in Natasha and Clint’s eyes. 

“If you change your mind-” 

“I won’t,” Darcy interrupted. She glanced at Tony, who watched her with something like pride in his eyes. “Trust me when I say we’ve got it covered.” 

Coulson’s gaze drifted over the remaining gathered Avengers, an angry Jane, and the werewolves scattered behind them. Stiles leaned against Derek with a sharp grin, mirrored by Laura and Erica. Kira absently adjusted her katana, strapped to her back, as the rest of the pack studied Coulson with predatory focus. 

“Yes. It appears that you do.” He smiled at Darcy, friendly, before turning back to his plane. “Good luck, Miss Lewis. You’re going to need it.” 

“You won’t,” Jane said matter-of-factly as the plane lifted into the air. She bumped shoulders with Darcy and grinned at the spark. 

Darcy grinned at her, then back at her family. “No, I won’t.”   
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I’ll admit I barely made it through one season of Agents of Shield (stayed for Skye and May, tbh), so my canon info is 100% outdated for that. Just pretend it fits, okay? Also, I should probably say again that I don’t hate Coulson but… he’s such a bureaucrat and it annoys me, okay??
> 
> Also, this was for you, @lilykep. Hope you're a little less pissed at Tony now lol


	28. Chapter 28

“So,” Darcy said, spinning a pen on the table. “About the job.” 

Bucky leaned back against the counter, regarding her sleepily. She tried not to be distracted by his low-slung sweatpants, lack of shirt, and the hair pulled back in a bun. It did things to her. “Your new SI job?” Bucky asked around a yawn. 

“Yeah.” Darcy turned to stare out of the window of her apartment, smiling fondly at the familiar sounds of New York City drifting up from the street. “I, uh, have a proposition for you.” 

A grin teased the corners of Bucky’s mouth as he leaned forward, propped on his elbows on the counter. “‘M listening.” His eyes trailed appreciatively over the way his shirt fell over Darcy’s shoulder, revealing an expanse of skin. 

“Not that kind of proposition,” Darcy huffed, but she couldn’t stop her own grin from spreading across her face. Bucky lifted a hand and pressed his thumb to her bottom lip, watching the way her mouth opened under the soft touch. 

Darcy’s smile fell away. She leaned in, helpless, following his touch even as he pulled his hand away. Bucky met her halfway in a kiss, capturing her bottom lip and scraping his teeth across it. Darcy made a noise low in her throat and watched through half-lidded eyes as he pulled back. 

“Sorry. Didn’t mean to interrupt you,” he said, eyes still on her mouth. 

“Feel free to do it more often,” Darcy breathed. She shivered as he trailed his fingers down her neck and across her exposed collarbone, pressing his fingers into the marks he’d left the previous night. 

“Seemed important,” Bucky murmured. “Your proposition.” 

“Uh huh. I have a couple new ones, now,” she said absently. Then Darcy remembered what she’d been trying to ask and blinked the haze of lust away. “Right. Yes, it was. Important, I mean.” She saw his barely-suppressed smile and narrowed her eyes at him. “Shut up.” 

“Yes, ma’am.” He caught the grape she threw at him with a laugh and tossed it into his mouth. “So, what’s the proposition?” 

Aaand there were the nerves again. Darcy shifted slightly in her seat. “You know Tony’s put me in charge of putting teams together for the new division.” 

Bucky nodded, reaching for the plate of fruit. “Maria Hill’s heading the division, I heard.” 

“Yeah, she’s actually really excited to start. I think just working building security, even for Stark Industries, has her going a little stir crazy.” Darcy waved a hand through the air. “So, technically, Maria’s in charge of running the division, the little details and whatever, while I’ll be on the ground running the missions.” 

“Stark not butting his way in yet?” Bucky asked with amusement. 

“Maria said no,” Darcy laughed. “But he  _ is  _ providing all the tech for us. He hired Danny to run the communications side of the missions, but I’m sure he’s going to hover.” 

“He cares about you. Of course he wants to be involved.”

Darcy ducked her head, feeling a little shy. “Yeah. Things are going pretty well.” 

“God knows how many times I’ve collected you after a night of drinking and blowing things up in his lab since we got back.” Bucky shook his head. “Your idea of father-daughter bonding is weird as hell, doll.” 

“But fun,” Darcy said cheerfully. “Anyway, I wanted to ask... I don’t know if you were planning to start going on missions with Steve, or maybe you don’t want to go out at all, maybe you just want to retire and be a full-time goat farmer-” 

Bucky mouthed _ “goat farmer?” _ as she continued to ramble. 

“- but it can’t hurt to ask, I guess.” She looked at him anxiously. “So?” 

“Doll, I’m not sure there was an actual question in there.” He stepped around the counter and turned her chair around to face him, leaning in with his hands wrapped around the arms of the chair. “Wanna try that again?” 

Darcy took a deep breath and tried to organize her thoughts. Damn it, she  _ knew  _ she should have written this down. “I’ve been training basically my entire life,” she started, slow and thoughtful. “To learn how to defend myself, first, and then later on to hunt and fight anything I might come across. I’ve had my pack, my family, for most of it, but I’m not an expert in anything but supernaturals.” 

Bucky made a face like he might argue but stayed quiet, letting her talk. Darcy reached up and traced her fingers across his chest and down his metal arm, feeling each ridge of the vibranium plates. “But you’ve been running missions since the dawn of time,” she said seriously. 

He pinched her side in retaliation, suppressing a smile when she giggled and squirmed back. Darcy kicked her feet in the chair, gently bumping against his legs. “And, while I know that Steve is your one and only- hey, quit it!” She shrieked when Bucky slid his hands up her shirt to tickle her. 

Batting his hands away, Darcy laughed. “Okay, okay, I’ll stop.”

“Kids these days,” Bucky drawled with a heavily dramatic sigh. “No respect for their elders.” 

“I’m gonna let that one pass,” Darcy said magnanimously. “Though I hope you appreciate my restraint.” 

“Oh, I guess there’s a first time for everything, then.” Bucky grinned down at her when she scowled. “Ask your question, Darce.” 

“Will you work with me?” Darcy blurted. He blinked at her in surprise. “Ugh, I swear, next time I really am writing this down.” 

“You want me to join your team?” Bucky asked, expression thoughtful. 

“You know the technical side of running an efficient, functional team,” Darcy said. “I want your experience and your opinions on the work, on how to maximize the efficiency of a small, mobile hunting team.” She slid her eyes away, unable to meet his gaze when she admitted, “But mostly I just want you there with me.” 

Darcy glanced back at him anxiously when he didn’t say anything, only to find him staring at her with so much softness in his expression that her cheeks flushed. “I gotta admit,” Bucky murmured. “I wasn’t thrilled about you runnin’ off, picking fights all over the world without me there to watch your back.” 

“For the last time, I do not run around picking fights,” Darcy grumbled. 

“Yes,” Bucky said. 

“I do _ not!”  _

Bucky huffed a laugh. “No, doll, ‘m sayin’ yes.” He reached out, tucked an errant curl behind her ear. “I’d be honored to work with you.” She hoped her stupid feelings weren’t written all over her face, but judging by the answering smile on Bucky’s it wasn’t likely. “Why were you nervous about askin’?” 

“I don’t know.” Darcy shrugged. “I was afraid you’d say no. And then I would be traveling all over the place while you stayed behind, and we’d never see each other, and then the romance would die or whatever and then we’d break up.” 

“You’ve obviously put some thought into this,” Bucky said, looking faintly alarmed. “But I love you, Darcy, and even if you were halfway across the world six days outta seven, it wouldn’t change that.” 

“I love you,” Darcy said helplessly. “I just... I really love you,” she finished lamely. 

“After the conditioning broke and I started remembering things, what I’d done, I never expected to have a single good thing in my life again,” Bucky told her. His eyes were suspiciously wet but Darcy said nothing. “I never dreamed I could be happy again, not even before I fell.” 

“But you’re happy now?” Darcy whispered. 

Bucky drew her into a long kiss, coaxing her mouth open with his and sliding his tongue against hers. “I’m happy now,” he said when they pulled back for air. “Because of you.” 

“Me, too,” Darcy said softly. She tugged him back down to kiss him again, sliding her leg slowly up his until it rested against his hip. She scraped her fingernails gently down his stomach, grinning into the kiss when he shivered. 

“So, about that other proposition,” Bucky murmured. He lifted her from the chair, holding her tight against him with the metal arm.  

Darcy slid her hands across his chest and smiled in satisfaction. “Why don’t you take me back to bed, and I’ll show you?” Bucky grinned and headed for the bedroom. 

~*~ 

“You’re sure you won’t need help?” Darcy asked anxiously. 

Naomi shouldered her bag and shook her head. “We’ll be fine, Darce. Lizard boy here wants to fix his lair first, and then we’ll be leaving to go look for other sparks. I knew of one or two in hiding years ago. If they’re still alive, maybe I can talk them back out.” 

“‘Lizard boy,’” Vahid said, cocking his head thoughtfully. “An odd choice for a pet name, I must admit. What an interesting century to wake up in.” Darcy smothered a laugh at Naomi’s long-suffering expression. 

“I’ll call you if we end up killing each other,” Naomi said dryly. Stiles laughed. “We’ll start in Kuwait so he can get all of his treasure or whatever the hell he has stashed down there.” 

“It is not wise to leave it unguarded.” Vahid turned those silver eyes to Darcy and Stiles. “I will protect your mentor no matter the cost. Do not fear for her safety when she is with me.” Naomi sputtered in annoyance.

“It’s not hers I’m worried about,” Stiles said aside to Darcy. She valiantly suppressed her laugh and accepted Vahid’s outstretched hand. 

Vahid bowed, kissing the back of her hand. “It has been an honor to fight alongside you both,” he purred. “Should you ever need my assistance in the future, you need only ask.” 

“I’ll add cell phone to the list,” Naomi sighed. She smiled at Darcy and Stiles. “I’ll let you know when we land,” she assured them. 

Darcy broke first, stepping forward to throw her arms around Naomi. “Stay in touch,” she said into the older spark’s shoulder. 

Naomi pressed a kiss to Darcy’s hair. “You bet, kiddo.” Darcy moved aside to let Stiles hug her, too, and then together they watched as Naomi and Vahid approached the jet Tony had offered. 

“I do not like your  _ planes.” _ Vahid’s voice drifted back to the two of them. “They seem rather... unstable.” 

“Vahid Tehrani,” Naomi said with a teasing glance, “Badass, centuries-old Persian dragon shifter, afraid of a little bitty airplane.” 

Vahid slid his silver gaze to Naomi. “You could always ride  _ me  _ back to Kuwait,” he said slyly. 

Naomi snorted a laugh, unfazed. “Hard pass. And for the last time, you can’t just shift whenever you want. Things have  _ changed, _ Vahid.” Their bickering faded as the plane doors closed. 

“Well,” Stiles said as they walked back to the car. “They’re a surprisingly good fit.” 

“I know.” Darcy wiggled happily. “And Naomi seems so much happier now. Plus, spark or not, she has a  _ dragon  _ watching her back. Talk about an invincible pair.” 

Stiles started the car and glanced over at Darcy. “To the Tower?” 

Darcy grinned back at him. “To the Tower.”

~*~ 

“So,” Tony said, watching Darcy slide an iron dagger into her thigh sheath. “You think you’re ready?” 

Darcy’s smile grew when Bucky pressed a kiss to her temple on his way past her. She and Tony turned to study the room, where the SI Supernatural Division prepared for the first mission briefing.

Maria and Bucky discussed something at the front of the room, preparing the reports. Derek and Cora leaned casually against a table, arms crossed and wearing matching unimpressed expressions as Stiles and Clint argued vehemently nearby about something ridiculous, no doubt. Danny muttered to himself in the corner of the room, updating the group’s comms.

Jane waved from the hall, passing by with Lydia at her side as they hurried to open the Bifrost on the roof of the tower before Tony caught on. 

Darcy let her gaze pass over the rest of them- Allison and Natasha, quiet and confident, Kira’s friendly smile at odds with the sword strapped to her back, Erica’s she-wolf grin and Boyd’s steady competence. A handful of Maria’s agents were scattered throughout the group, joining the ranks of SI special consultants. 

“Yeah,” Darcy said. She looked over, smiled at Tony. “I think we’re ready for just about anything.” 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Aaaand that’s a wrap! You guys have all been so wonderful and supportive and I love every one of you!
> 
> I’m not quite finished with this verse yet… The next part will be a collection of one-shots within the Legacy verse, with a very loose timeline and no legitimate plot whatsoever. I’ve already written the first 6 chapters for it, so I’ll post the first one on Friday!  


End file.
